


Once I Rose (Above the Noise and Confusion) [Season One]

by indigomini



Series: Supernatural Kaisoo [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Killing, M/M, Monster of the Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Kyungsoo hunts monsters. He's tracking down a gumiho when he runs into someone he saved a long time ago, now a fledgling hunter himself.





	1. Chapter 1

Kyungsoo ends up having to pull over right after he hits the dark highway. That's just...not going to happen. New rule from now on: if the guy's dick is nearly as thick as a damn beer can, he's gotta top or hang around town for a few days after. Motorcycles and sore assholes don't go well together. Can't push it along the road either. Fuck. Ow.

It's not long after when a car pulls up behind him. The driver is maybe a little older than Kyungsoo, looking as smarmy as any douche in a convertible would. "Need a ride?" the man asks, stepping out and looking him over.

"Naw, can't leave my baby," he answers, patting the handlebar fondly. "Thanks though."

The man isn't phased. "Little warm out for a leather jacket, isn't it?" he says, walking closer.

Kyungsoo pops the kickstand down and turns to face him directly, crossing his arms. "Got no ass, grass, or cash here, buddy," he warns, squinting at the man. Regular, old fashion, run-of-the-mill creeper? Or something else? They were parked on the side of a rarely used on-ramp in the middle of the night. His intentions aren't pure regardless. Kyungsoo feels the reassuring weight of the 1911 in his shoulder holster. It's just got regular bullets at the moment, but that'll be enough to at least stall most monsters, and it'll take down a plain, shitty ass human easily. 

"Oh, I think you've got a little bit of everything, don't you, Do?"

Whoops. Not a human then. He'd feel infinitely more comfortable with the situation if he knew he could run if needed. Okay, amending previous rule. No more big dicks whatsoever. It's turning into a real liability. Shucks.

"Don't believe we've met," he answers, tilting his head to the side. The man opens his mouth to respond and Kyungsoo doesn't even have to pause to aim, plugging two .45s into his forehead, another in his chest.

"That was not nice," the man growls out, his head snapping back into place as he slowly advances. Yellow ichor leaks out of the holes in his head. Shit. Out of all the things that go bump in the night, he has to deal with a dokkaebi while bowlegged? Kyungsoo would say there was no god if he hasn't killed so many. Immortals always overestimate just how 'immortal' they actually are. Here's hoping this one shared that mentality.

"Just saying hi. Some people say it with hugs, I prefer the good old double tap," Kyungsoo quips, backing up slowly, switching his gun into his left hand. "You gonna introduce yourself too so we can be friends?"

"You're way smaller than I expected. I think I'm going to eat your heart," the dokkaebi promises, gaining ground. He's almost caught up to Kyungsoo, spreading his arms out to crush, "And then I'll cut your head off and put it with the rest of the hunters who've tried to come through my domain."

"What an excellent idea," Kyungsoo says, yanking the kukri out of its sheath on his back and swings hard. It wouldn't be enough to sever a human head, but dokkaebis don't have real bones or flesh, and the blade cuts clean through.

He's not really in the mood - or shape - for football right now, but the head immediately attempts to reattach, and Kyungsoo has to repeatedly kick it away. He's dripping with sweat by the time he's done hacking up the body, and yanks a little too hard on the latch of the saddlebag. Poor motorcycle didn't do anything to deserve that. "I'm sorry," Kyungsoo mumbles, petting the rear fender before walking back and spraying down the pile of glowing limbs with good ol' Wang's sea salt. He lights a match and lets it fall, watching as the dokkaebi burns a brilliant green.

The head had gotten punted off to the clearing in an unwise moment of frustration, and Kyungsoo now looks down at the little hill he has to trek with dread. He weighs his options: go get it and add it to the pyre, or risk it rolling into some poor soul and gaining a new body. Well, crap, when it rains, it fucking pours.

Half an hour, a full pile of lime green ash, and an extra sore bum later, Kyungsoo finds himself extremely tempted to take the dokkaebi's car back to the nearest motel, but he can't just leave Jagi out on the side of the road. 

He lets out a long, worn out sigh and gingerly swings his leg over the saddle, slowly rolling the bike around, finally starting it up and letting the engine roar to life. The vibrations in his seat make him wince already. It's a ten minute drive to a dubiously clean bed if he takes it easy. He'll have to call and let Junmyeon know he can't take the gwisin case in Gimpo. The next big dick to point his way is getting a foot up the ass, Kyungsoo promises to himself.

'There ain't no rest for the wicked' plays through the tinny speakers of the dingy motel lobby as Kyungsoo finally limps in, and he's inclined to agree.


	2. Chapter 2

“Kyungsoo.”

“Go away, Sehun, I’m cleaning my gun,” Kyungsoo says, not even bothering to look up. He’s gotten to the point where he no longer physically jumps when the angel materializes in front of him anymore, but it still startles him, which just brings out his uncharitable side.

“You are actually cleaning a gun,” Sehun states blandly.

“Obviously?” Kyungsoo mutters, trying to get the bit of gun oil that dripped onto the clip out.

“Last time you said you were cleaning a gun, you were rubbing your genitals.”

So Sehun is an angel — not like a sweetheart or cutie, he was an actual, literal, play-the-harps, flap-the-wings, judgemental-as-fuck angel. He’s been following Kyungsoo around for the last half year trying to recruit him for what is essentially a suicide mission. Hunters don’t settle down and have families or bother forming close friendships, because their average life expectancy is around, oh, zero days. But it’s not like Kyungsoo goes looking for Death. Not anymore anyway, that was last year. (Long story.)

“Maybe if you learned to knock, you wouldn’t walk in when I’m whacking it,” Kyungsoo snips, reattaching the grips to the body of the gun. “Otherwise, I’m starting to think you like watching me.”

“I do not.”

“Could’ve fooled me, possessing the man with the bubbliest butt in South Korea to get my attention.”

Sehun bristles, “He was a servant of God and volunteered to let me inhabit his body.”

“Okay, first off,” Kyungsoo says, ticking off a pinky. “‘Volunteer’ is kind of a generous term there. There’s volunteer to help at a school bake sale, and then there’s ‘sure, I’ll volunteer to walk through that pretty field of grass’ and not knowing it’s full of landmines. He’s not even in there anymore—”

“His soul has ascended into Heaven—”

“Secondly, whatever, he’s gone, I don’t care. But I am also happy to inhabit that body. At least for like ten minutes or so. I'm not greedy.” Seriously, that ass.

“Will you agree to let Luhan possess you?”

“...If you let me fuck you?” Kyungsoo confirms, finally looking up, interest piqued.

Sehun actually deliberates this. Luhan, an archangel, needs a body—apparently his body in particularly—to come to earth, and something something, Kyungsoo didn’t really care to find out the rest after he realized that it wasn’t a holy threesome, and more like...his doom. Boner killer.

“Yes,” the angel decides after some thought.

“I better not,” Kyungsoo says, even though the snark would go right over the angel’s pretty head. “No ass is worth my soul. I can just blow up some water balloons and tape it on the next guy.”

Sehun gives him that blank stare again before arching his back and trying to turn and examine his rear. “I do not see what the fascination is.”

“It’s totally not proportional to your body,” Kyungsoo says. He’s nearly done reassembling the field stripped 1911. “You have like a noodle thin body, and then there are just these perfect, shiny, fat cheeks that are begging to be fucked. I could go to town and not even reach your hallelujah hole probably.” Well, he just might have to go ‘clean his gun’ after all now once Sehun leaves.

“Your vulgarity does not help to clarify the fascination,” the angel replies, straightening out again. “So your answer is no?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says, trying and failing to bite back a smirk. “Maybe take off the pants and show me the goods first. Let me decide.”

“I am not falling for that again. Goodnight.” And then there was just air where he once stood. Well, shucks.

—

Kyungsoo is a workaholic, so his two day vacation/medical leave in the dingy motel leaves him antsy for more action. He called Junmyeon bright and early, practically begging for a new case. Apparently, there was something that just started up in the next town over. How serendipitous. He’s sure Jagi’s itching to eat up some asphalt as well, so he gasses up the motorcycle and heads south.

There had been three deaths so far. Something was eating men’s livers, which is vague. Apparently, just about every monster likes eating livers. Or hearts. Kyungsoo pulls up to the local dive bar near where the bodies have been found, stopping at the entrance to look appreciatively at the seven foot tall penis statues out front. These giant schlongs kept gwisin out, so he didn’t have to worry about any virgin ghosts tonight. That narrowed the list somewhat. Dokkaebi didn’t really discriminate between genders or body parts. The last one wanted his heart, but he could’ve just as easily said he’d mount Kyungsoo’s left asscheek on his wall. Probably safe to cross that one off the list as well. He hugs his chest, feeling the reassuring weight of the gun in his shoulder holster and the knife tucked into his side. It’s not exactly a full artillery, but it’ll have to do at least until he gets some recon.

Something smells off the moment he walks inside. There was a musky scent, and it made the air feel heavy. Despite three men being violently murdered just a few steps out back, the place still has a couple of patrons. All men too, sans one lone lady, who wasn’t alone at all. She was fully nude and sitting on the bartop, and everyone had formed a line before her. Kyungsoo suspects that’s a clue, Scooby Doo.

The closer he gets to the scene, the heavier the air grows. Currently, she was holding a man’s head down between her legs. He laps away dutifully, despite the yells from the other men for him to hurry up so they could have a turn. Kyungsoo watches from a discreet corner as she writhes and bucks her way through an orgasm. He feels it. Everyone feels it, apparently, the high weakening the further away you were from the source. She pulls the man up to her fox-like face after and kisses him messily, his face still wet with her juices. Kyungsoo catches the flash of gold in her eyes as she pushes the man away with a satisfied smirk, letting the next one drop onto his knees and start his worship.

A gumiho is hard to kill because it’s clever and old as shit, and therefore has at least a couple decades of survival experience. What he should do is wait out back for it to lure one of the marked men to their death. He had a stake left in one of the saddlebags, made of Tree of Heaven wood and dipped in gumiho blood. It would do the trick.

Except a fight breaks out between several men, and chaos descends after. The gumiho kicks the man between her legs away roughly and rolls to her feet, disappearing down the narrow hallway. She might make a run for it. Kyungsoo circles around the brawl and dashes blindly after her. Here’s to hoping blessed silver bullets will at least do a little more than just piss her off until he can get the right tools.

End of the hallway. Something falls to his right, and he pushes past that door. The gumiho whirls around to face him, eyes narrowing as she looks him over.

“I wanted a turn,” Kyungsoo says quickly, putting a sulk in his voice. He casts his eyes downward and takes a step toward her, placing his hands over his heart, mere centimeters away from his gun.

“Come to pray at my feet?” she asks, a laugh in her high voice, leaning back against some boxes as Kyungsoo nods and gains another step, swaying like he was dazed. The air was growing musky and heavy again. She spreads her legs, propping one up on the ledge of a low crate.

Hand firmly gripped on the handle, Kyungsoo prepares to run for his bike if the bullets don’t take her down. It’s gonna be a mad dash, but he doesn’t have much of a choice at this point.

“I can give you whatever your heart desires,” the gumiho purrs out, brushing her hands over her open thighs.

“My heart desires a guy who’d eat my ass like a cupcake. You got one of those?”

The door bursts open behind them, and Kyungsoo has his gun drawn and fires at the most obvious danger first, then aiming over at the newcomer—some guy, eyes wide as he holds a small pistol out. Great. The gumiho screams and lunges at Kyungsoo with a mouth full of razor sharp fangs, the bullets causing purple smoke to rise from the wounds, but it’s barely enough to slow her down. The man empties his gun into her chest even as Kyungsoo shoves him out of the room so he doesn’t turn into a runaway snack for the gumiho, who was shifting back to her fox form, tails whipping around the room.

“Run!” Kyungsoo bellows, pushing him down the hallway now. It would be okay, assuming there was an exit past the next room. Otherwise, they were fucked.

No dying today, there's a door after all. Kyungsoo throws himself into it, almost diving as he reaches open air, still hearing footsteps thundering right at his ankles. He sprints toward Jagi and nearly rips the saddlebag’s strap off in his haste. The man shouts behind him and Kyungsoo's hand finds the wood just as he hears a triumphant cry from the gumiho. He turns to see her fanning her tails out as she leans over the other man, clawed fingers squeezing around his throat, eyes glowing. Perfect.

She manages a choked off, high-pitched shriek as Kyungsoo buries the stake in her back, leaning his weight forward to wedge it deep between her ribs.

The man flails trying to pry her claws off of his neck and roll onto his feet. Kyungsoo was about to walk off when he catches a closer glimpse of the man's face. Why, hello.

“Thanks, Kyungsoo,” the man says breathlessly, staring down at the body with suspicion. He was shaking.

Wait, what? “Have we met?” Kyungsoo asks, canting his head for a better look. He would remember if he fucked someone that pretty.

The man finally seems content that the gumiho was dead enough and looks back at him properly. His face drops into a disappointed pout, but he tries to shake it off immediately after. “My name is Jongin... You saved my life about a year ago? I recognized your bike...”

Kyungsoo stares dumbly. “Are you a hunter?” He's saved a couple of hunters. As a general rule, it's best to avoid sleeping with other hunters. It'd be like intraoffice relationships or something. Messy, and someone would end up dying. That would make sense, but he should have recognized him then. It occurs to him that it's possible Jongin is just _straight_ , but that would just be tragic.

Jongin lets out a soft sigh and chews on his lower lip, trying and failing to not look like a wounded puppy. “Yeah. Or I'm trying to be anyway. I kept hoping I'd run into you eventually so I could thank you. And then you go and save me again, so...thank you times two.”

Oh, a wee fledgling hunter. With thick, perfect dick-sucking lips and staring at Kyungsoo with hopeful eyes.

Kyungsoo looks down, suddenly remembering the gumiho and their surroundings before turning back to Jongin. “Can you help me burn this body?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Jongin appears!


	3. Chapter 3

Turns out tall, dark, and handsome could not, in fact, help Kyungsoo burn the body. His hand was injured when he was bait for the gumiho, so Kyungsoo ends up sending him back into the bar to stall if anyone tries to leave, lest they catch some guy trying to light a dead woman with a bunch of tails on fire. Jongin’s butt jiggles when he walks. It looks fantastic in those jeans. Oh right, the body. He’s gotta burn a body.

Gumiho disposal isn’t so easy. Even their corpses were clever. They lived forever, so he supposes the magic or power or whatever it is stays in them. She’s definitely dead, but if he just burned it, the land where the ashes stayed would be cursed, luring young men into being even more foolish than they are already so willing to be. There has to be a complicated incantation done, the area has to be cleared before the pyre can be made, and then the ashes have to be buried, the ground salted. It’s going to be a long ass night.

“Kyungsoo.” No whoosh or any other sound effects. It’s jarring.

“Go away, Sehun,” he answers, wiping sweat from his brow. Trust this little clearing to have all the rocks and pebbles and tiny, barbed little plants. “I’m busy.”

“We need to talk,” the angel says.

Kyungsoo stands up, a lightbulb going off in his head. “You know what,” he says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “Get rid of this body. Then we can talk.”

Sehun waves his hand over it, and the body vanishes. What in the fuck, life is not fair. That’d be like a two hour operation for him. “It’s  _ gone _ gone?”

“Yes.”

“As in, it’s not going to curse the place.”

One day, he’s going to keep a record of how often he sees Sehun blink. Because he’s just staring. Does Kyungsoo recall him  _ ever _ blinking? Questions, questions…

“Of course. The abomination has been removed.”

“Buddy, you’d make a killing as a cleanup crew for hunters,” Kyungsoo says, clapping the angel on the shoulder as he walks past.

“The grammar in that sentence makes no sense,” Sehun says, turning around. “You agreed to talk.”

Kyungsoo spins on his heels to face the angel, walking backward on the gravel. “I did. So talk. Follow me though, I need to seal the deal on something.”

Kyungsoo catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror as he passes by. He sighs, trying to rearrange his hair into something a little more presentable than the sweaty, lifeless, wine-colored mess that it was. Here’s hoping gratitude got him further than looks tonight.

Jongin is trying and failing to wrap his wrist when they enter the room, which gives Kyungsoo the perfect opportunity to get closer. The other hunter eyes Sehun with suspicion, but says nothing, waiting patiently.

“Sehun, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, taking the elastic bandages and grabbing Jongin’s hand carefully. “And Jongin, Sehun.”

“We are willing to listen to your terms,” the angel says.

Jongin looks even better up close. Their eyes meet when Kyungsoo chances a glimpse upward, and he gives Kyungsoo a shy smile, dimpling a cheek. “Thanks,” he says softly, looking back down. Oh, right. They’re not just holding hands. Okay.

“My terms are I want to live and be left alone,” Kyungsoo says, rolling the bandage over Jongin’s wrist. They have the same sun-kissed skin tone, he observes, running his thumb over Jongin’s palm. His skin is flawless though, whereas Kyungsoo’s picked up so many scrapes over the years, he has more scar than skin probably.

“What’s going on?” Jongin asks, confused. His hand jerks when Kyungsoo goes to tighten the last wraps, but he doesn’t complain.

“Kyungsoo, we are willing to grant you almost any luxury or wish,” Sehun says, eyebrows knitting together. “But it has to be something that can lead to Luhan’s release.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Kyungsoo says, finishing the wrap way too soon and regretfully having to let go. “He just wants to evacuate my soul so his boyfriend can come to earth.”

“Luhan is not my romantic partner.”

Kyungsoo turns around to look at the angel. “You’re the only one trying to find him a warm body to move into.”

“Who is Luhan?” Jongin whispers.

“Some fancy angel—”

“ _ Arch _ angel —” Sehun corrects.

“Whatever, and  _ he’s _ an angel, and basically—”

“Like an  _ angel _ angel?” Jongin says.

“Yeah, like shooting heart arrows and playing harps and shit—”

“Those are cherubs,” Sehun says. “They are lesser angels. I am—”

“Nobody cares,” Kyungsoo snaps. “I’m trying to explain something here.”

Sehun’s mouth snaps shut, and he bristles visibly.

Jongin leans in close, keeping his eyes on the angel. “I think you hurt his feelings,” he whispers. Mm, he smells good.

“Anyway, he’s been following me around, saying I’m the only one who Luhan can get into, and  _ basically _ : never agree to help an angel out if they swoop in, because they might be trying to kill you so they can have earth sex instead of cloud sex,” Kyungsoo hurries out.

“We do not engage in sexual congress,” Sehun snaps, stormy eyes glaring at Kyungsoo. “Besides, were we to even desire to do so, it would be fruitless to utilize two male vessels.”

Kyungsoo tries to sneakily glance over at Jongin for his reaction to find him casting the angel an indignant stare. That looks promising. He pats Jongin on the shoulder and leans in conspiratorially, “All his junk’s in the trunk, he’s basically like a Ken doll down there. Just let him talk.”

“Regardless, Do Kyungsoo, you are going to die eventually.” The angel takes a step closer, watching them both now. “The odds of it being a violent, painful death with numerous casualties increase each day. You may choose instead to be surrounded by worldly pleasures and then offer your vessel for a higher purpose, allowing you passage into Heaven. Very few humans are offered this choice. It is an honor and a gift.” He reaches a hand out and touches Jongin’s wrist briefly before the hunter can jerk it back in surprise.

“Hey!—”

“I have healed you. I must leave. Perhaps you can convince him to do the right thing.” 

And just like that, he’s gone. No poof of smoke, no noises. Kyungsoo purses his lips and looks up at Jongin again. The boy’s eyes form nearly perfect circles in surprise, staring at the empty space for a breath before turning down to his wrist, flexing it this way and that. He pulls off the bandages slowly, rotating his hand in a full circle.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s helpful sometimes,” Kyungsoo says. “But he wants to kill me.”

“That’s amazing,” Jongin says, marvelling at his wrist.

Don’t go crushing on the big-bootied angel, please. Kyungsoo scans the bar. The remaining men were just standing around, drowsily swaying. It should wear off in a couple of hours. They were fine. Threat was gone. He yawns dramatically, canting his head back toward Jongin. “I’m tired. Wanna share a room?”

“Huh?” Jongin says, processing it a moment later and nodding. “Oh. Yeah, okay.”

—

“So tell me what I saved you from,” Kyungsoo says once Jongin parks in the spot next to his bike and gets out. They can see the bar from here, but it wouldn’t have been good to leave their vehicles back there.

“A jangjamari,” Jongin says quietly, looking down at his feet as he walks. “It drowned my whole family. You saved me right before I could go under the water.”

Oh. Hmm. He vaguely remembers killing a water spirit, and Jongin’s time frame makes sense. It  _ would _ be about a year ago. It would have been...that would make sense. Kyungsoo wasn’t in any state of mind to be worrying about chasing ass back then. “I think I remember now, actually.”

“Really?” Jongin says, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says as they make their way through the lobby. “Sorry for not recognizing you. It was a bad time for me.”

“Me too,” Jongin says, sucking his lower lip in and looking down.

Yeah, family deaths are probably crappy conversation topics. Kyungsoo clears his throat as they near the counter. “But look at you now, kicking ass and taking names.”

Jongin grows shy again. “Hardly,” he says. “You saved me every time. I wish I could thank you properly.”

“You’ll get better at it,” Kyungsoo reassures him, biting his tongue afterward. That was a perfect opportunity for an innuendo. He sighs, turning back to the desk clerk to get a room.

“One bed or two?” the clerk asks, not even bothering to look away from his computer.

Kyungsoo arches a brow and turns to Jongin, who’s watching him anxiously. Dammit. He should’ve set this up better. He blames Sehun.

“Two,” Kyungsoo says, not taking his eyes off of the other hunter. He catches the disappointed look in Jongin’s face and accepts the keys with a big grin. Well, at least he’s barking up the right tree.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyungsoo lets Jongin have his pick of the beds once they get into their motel room. He hops into the shower to wash off the sweat and dirt from earlier, resisting the ridiculously strong urge to wank it and feeling much more human once he gets out. He exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his waist, walking over to his bag to dig out his last set of clean clothes. Chances of this motel having an accessible laundry room are pretty slim, so he’s gonna have to just deal until he can swing by Junmyeon’s fortress to wash this mess. He turns around to see Jongin quickly looking away, awkwardly playing with his fingers while sitting on the edge of the bed by the window.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo says as he saunters over, tossing the bundle of clothes onto his bed and standing in front of Jongin with a cocky smirk on his face.

The boy pulls his glasses off, nervously cleaning them on the hem of his shirt as he looks up at Kyungsoo. His gaze snags on Kyungsoo’s chest, and he has to blink a couple of times before he speaks. “Cool tattoo.”

Well damn, dropping the glasses changes him from cute and pretty to smoking hot in a heartbeat. Kyungsoo looks down. “Oh yeah,” he says, touching the edge of the tattoo positioned under his right collarbone. It was a pentagram, embedded inside a stylized sun, radiating wavy rays. “Anti-possession tattoo. You should consider getting one too. It’s handy in our line of work.”

“It works?” Jongin asks, pushing the gold round-framed glasses back on. Aww, but cute and pretty suits him too. Choices, choices…

“Yeah, some Americans found it in a book somewhere,” Kyungsoo mutters absently, reaching out and cupping the boy’s sharp jaw, tilting his head upward. Dammit. He didn’t notice earlier. He should have. “Your pupils are blown.”

“I think yours are too,” Jongin breathes out, nostrils flaring at the touch.

Kyungsoo blinks hard, as if he could feel the size of his pupils by doing so. “How long were you at the bar before it all went down?” He slowly realizes he’s stroking Jongin’s cheek with his thumb, grazing over the stubble, and reluctantly drops his hand.

“I don’t know,” Jongin says. “Your engine was cool by the time I showed up.”

Probably still long enough to be hit by the gumiho’s wave. And then she actually touched him. While trying to choke the life out of him, yes, but there was still physical contact. “So listen, you’re probably feeling kind of horny right—”

He feels a tug on his towel and the whole thing unravels, falling to his feet. Jongin’s face is level with his stomach. Kyungsoo’s sporting a pretty decent erection already, and it’s pointing right at Jongin like he was true North.

“—now.” He barely catches Jongin by his soft black hair when the boy leans forward. Kyungsoo feels the puff of warm air on the tip of his dick, and senses it twitch in response. “Oh wow, uh…” Large almond eyes look up at him so innocently, he almost lets go. “Uhh…” Kyungsoo draws out, staring as Jongin's tongue pokes out to run over his thick lips, leaving them glistening.

“What’s wrong?” Jongin asks, reaching a hand up, and Kyungsoo swears it's because he has to keep both hands in Jongin's hair to keep him from going forward, but he lets Jongin wrap his long, pretty fingers around his shaft, stroking it slowly.

It takes several tries before Kyungsoo can speak. “Uhh, the gumiho,” he moans out. “Her orgasms trigger like lowered inhibitions and _ohhh_ …” Jongin's lips find their way around the crown of his dick, and they are just as velvety soft as they look. Kyungsoo's hands take on a mind of their own, pulling Jongin closer instead of holding him in place, allowing those lips to make several trips down to the base of his cock before Kyungsoo pulls him off, tilting his chin up so their eyes meet. Big mistake, _fuck_ , his lips were already swollen and red and combined with those innocent glasses, Kyungsoo could nut right there.

Jongin holds his gaze as he removes the fingers under his chin and pushes them into his hot mouth, sucking them in all the way as his hand continues its ministrations. Kyungsoo moans in response, pressing into the fleshy tongue as the suction increases. _Dammit_. He reluctantly pulls his fingers back out and unwraps Jongin's fingers from around his dick.

“Hey, listen to me,” Kyungsoo says, his voice betraying how turned on he was, as if it wasn't already obvious. “The gumiho released pheromones earlier. It causes increased arousal and decreased inhibitions. It goes away when you orgasm, so we can just take turns in the bathroom and—”

“Does it affect free will?” Jongin asks, giving him those eyes again. Damn damn damn.

“Huh?” Kyungsoo offers intelligently, too busy watching the way Jongin's lips move to process the actual words. “Oh...no, it's like doing a couple of shots, but—”

“So unless I'm reading you wrong, I think you're attracted to me too,” Jongin says, and Kyungsoo almost has a heart attack when the boy slides Kyungsoo's fingers through his hair, resting them on the back of his head. “And I'd really like to thank the guy who saved my life.”

Kyungsoo's knees buckle when Jongin swallows his length down again. “You don't need to suck my dick to thank me,” he squeaks out unconvincingly as he brings Jongin's head forward repeatedly.

Jongin pulls off with a wet pop. “But I really want to… I've been trying to find you for a year now.”

“Well, okay.” Far be it for Kyungsoo to deny somebody trying to show some gratitude. That'd just be rude.

“Or you could fuck me,” Jongin offers, looking up hesitantly. “I'd like that too.”

“Shit, okay,” Kyungsoo breathes out, watching Jongin pull his shirt off and stand up to kick off his shoes and undo his jeans. He should probably help. Jongin's wearing the cutest little gray briefs with red ribbing, and it's doing nothing to conceal the giant dick underneath. Kyungsoo stares at it as Jongin pushes the waistband down, letting it fall the rest of the way.

“Or how would you like me?” Jongin asks, hands resting shyly on his stomach, looking at him from under his lashes.

“That,” Kyungsoo forces out, his mouth gone dry. He actually points at it. “I want that.” He practically runs back to his bag, coming back with condoms and lube and dropping them onto the edge of the bed. “I think these should fit…” he mumbles, palming over Jongin's hardening length.

Jongin grabs him by the waist and guides him to lay down on the bed. “Okay,” he says with a small smile before he lifts Kyungsoo's legs up, nearly folding him in half.

“What—” Kyungsoo says, but whatever else he was going to say gets erased as he feels Jongin parting his cheeks and then something wet exploring in between.

“I heard what you said to the gumiho before she attacked us,” comes the quick answer before Jongin begins sucking on the skin, moving up slowly to mouth at his balls and coming back down, repeating this until Kyungsoo's so sensitive, he’s moaning and gasping regularly and his legs jerk with every touch.

There's a bit of an uncomfortable stretch by the time Jongin's worked up to the fourth finger, but Kyungsoo's legs are trembling now, his skin tingling with how sensitized everything is. He hasn't done shit. Just laid there with his feet going numb as it hangs over his head and let Jongin eat him out like a starved man. His glasses are off now, and the promises in those eyes are making Kyungsoo leak all over his own stomach before Jongin even gets a condom on.

Speaking of, no guy should look that cute just rolling on a condom. Jongin makes it look like a project, sitting back on his calves with his legs spread as he pushes it down, determination on his face. It takes him a bit before he can finally lube everything up and come back to hover between Kyungsoo's legs, rubbing and kneading his thighs.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo asks after almost a minute goes by with Jongin just staring down at his hands. Was he chickening out?

Jongin looks up into his eyes with a small smirk. “Thick thighs save lives.” He gives them one last squeeze before grabbing onto his length and directing it to Kyungsoo's hole.

“You’re so cute,” Kyungsoo murmurs, grabbing onto the back of his knees and spreading his legs more as he feels Jongin pressing in. He holds his breath until the head has fully breached, sighing out as he squeezes around it in anticipation. Jongin grabs his hips and slides forward slowly. It's smooth, and he's not as big as that last guy, but god _damn_ , there's still a stretch. Kyungsoo lets out a groan when Jongin's pelvis finally bumps against his ass.

“Tell me when you're ready,” Jongin says, his voice strained as he starts massaging Kyungsoo's thighs again.

“I'm good,” Kyungsoo mumbles.

“I like your hair,” Jongin says, making Kyungsoo blink his eyes open and look up at him. “It was brown and shorter last time I saw you.”

It's kind of a ridiculous time for that kind of compliment, but it's so cute. “I like your dick,” Kyungsoo counters, clenching around him. “Show me you know how to use it.”

Jongin chuckles, leaning forward hesitantly. “Can I kiss you?”

Precious. Kyungsoo answers by pulling him down and mashing their lips together, gasping against his mouth as Jongin's cock drags over some really nice spots, to where he almost slips out, before plunging forward and filling him back up again, making Kyungsoo's body jerk as he cries out softly. The tip of his nose was already tingling. Jongin moves again. Holy shit, it feels so heavy inside him.

The kiss deepens as Jongin's thrusts grow more confident, sending shockwaves of pleasure up Kyungsoo's spine. He's so _full_. Every time Jongin's hips bounce off his ass, Kyungsoo swears his legs go numb for a split second.

He nearly panics when Jongin pulls out and backs away, feeling empty and desperate. It takes him a moment to realize Jongin's trying to roll him over onto his hands and knees, but he complies, mashing his cheek against the sheets and spreading his legs out wide in anticipation.

He feels Jongin's tongue circle his rim, dipping in briefly before fingers replace it as it drops down to suckle his perineum. It almost tickles, but then Jongin's long fingers circle tightly around his prostate and Kyungsoo feels himself drooling as his face goes numb.

“Shit, come back and fuck me,” Kyungsoo says, grabbing at the sheets, feeling the pressure intensify as Jongin's clever fingers work him back up. “ _Ahh_ , I don’t need you to _just_ eat ass, come _back_ here.”

He feels teeth grazing the underside of his balls and a quick, teasing nip, enough to send a jolt through him. Jongin pulls his fingers out and grabs onto Kyungsoo’s waist as he sinks all the way back in again.

“Harder,” Kyungsoo grunts out, backing up to meet Jongin’s hips on every thrust.

“Yeah?” Jongin asks, snapping forward experimentally. _Ohhh_ , he felt that one all the way down to his fingertips and toes.

“Yes. Give it to me.”

Kyungsoo has to straighten up and hang onto the headboard to keep from being pushed up the bed as Jongin rams home. Aside from his muffled moans and grunts and Jongin’s heavy breathing, the room is filled with sounds of wet skin slapping, the lube squelching loudly. Jongin’s cock drags deliciously across his sweet spot with every slide from this angle, sending a tingle from his lips all the way up through his scalp and down his back. His mouth is dried out from hanging open for so long.

“Ah, Kyungsoo— _Kyungsoo_ ,” Jongin rushes out, reaching forward to yank on Kyungsoo’s neglected cock. It throws off his rhythm and angle, and Kyungsoo pushes his hand away, taking over as Jongin goes back to trying to drill him into the headboard. The slight, dull ache that comes from every rough thrust, followed by the full body tingle of pleasure after already has him so close, it only takes a couple of tugs on his dick for Kyungsoo to cum, body twitching as he spurts white all over the sheets underneath him, slowly becoming aware of how hoarse his throat feels after. He doesn't even remember screaming as he gasps in lungfuls of air, his body still jerking from the aftershocks.

Jongin is still rocking in and out; slow, easy pumps as his dick continues to spasm inside Kyungsoo. He must have came too. Hot damn, Kyungsoo is wiped out. Jongin pulls out with a soft gasp, and Kyungsoo drops to his side to land away from the wet spot as he hears Jongin tie off the condom and it hits the trash can.

Kyungsoo points weakly at the other bed, still trying to catch his breath. “This one’s ruined. I’ll—I’ll be over there in a moment.” He watches Jongin make his way over to the clean bed on shaky legs, splaying out on top of the covers, still fully nude. It takes him another minute before Kyungsoo braves the short distance, wincing as he stumbles on his own unresponsive legs to climb in next to Jongin. He’s going to be so fucking sore tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of plot. Ummm....they made me do it. *points at kaisoo and runs*


	5. Chapter 5

It doesn't occur to Kyungsoo until he's dragging his feet back to bed after an early morning pee that he hasn't heard back from Junmyeon.

In a couple of days.

That does not happen. Junmyeon is possibly the most responsible person he knows. (Unlike himself, who apparently has no self-restraint and forgets promises to himself the moment a nice penis enters view.)

Jongin stirs as Kyungsoo gets the last of his clothes on. Well shit, this part is always awkward.

“Kyungsoo?” comes the raspy greeting.

“Hey,” he answers as he cinches his belt. “So...checkout is at eleven. They have continental breakfast.”

Jongin has pulled himself up to sitting now and looking very much like a dejected puppy.

“Uhhh…” Kyungsoo starts. “So that was really,  _ really  _ nice.” He fumbles with his bag and slings it onto his shoulder.

“You're leaving?” 

“Yeah…” Kyungsoo says, scratching the back of his neck. “You should probably upgrade your gun by the way. And not blindly stumble into a situation without a plan on how to deal with it. There are resources.” Well shit, he should have covered Hunting Monsters 101 last night before getting dicked. That'd make this go a whole lot smoother. “I can give you my number...if you want. I can help you with some more information, but uh...I really gotta go.”

“Oh,” Jongin says quietly. “Okay…”

Well, it's not going to get any better. Kyungsoo walks out and toward his bike, wincing a little every couple of steps. It's not until he attempts to swing his leg over the saddle though that he lets out a small yelp, freezing in place.

So the second round was probably a bad idea. Goading Jongin to give it his all and try to fuck him into the cheap mattress was probably a bad idea too. Now his ass  _ and _ his back hurt.

Kyungsoo leans back against the car in the next parking spot over and pulls out his phone to text Junmyeon again:

_ Hey really need to know if you’re alive. Heading to you on fumes in a few minutes if i don’t hear anything. CALL ME _

Junmyeon’s a morning person. He’d be up by now. Maybe he just found some babe and they’ve been busy stuck in bed the last few days. But Junmyeon always checks in on him. And Kyungsoo can feel in his gut that something was off.

It’s been ten minutes and still no answer when Kyungsoo realizes someone’s walked up to him. Jongin stands several feet away, looking confused.

“Oh hey,” Kyungsoo says. Let’s make it more awkward and follow your one night stand out. Sure.

“Hi…” Jongin says, adjusting his glasses and chewing on his lower lip.

Kyungsoo lets the silence grow and give the kid a chance to walk away with his dignity. He doesn’t. Great. “What’s up?”

Jongin slowly raises a hand and points at the vehicle he’s still leaning on. “Um...that’s my car.”

Oh.

Well.

“Right,” Kyungsoo says, pushing off of it and stepping away. “Sorry about that.”

Jongin doesn’t say anything else, choosing instead to just quietly walk to the driver’s door and unlock it. He’s so timid when he’s not ramming ass. Kyungsoo catches the glance he sneaks back as he opens the door and climbs in.

_ LAST CHANCE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU _

“Were you-...are you waiting for somebody?” Jongin asks.

Kyungsoo looks up from his phone and lets out a sigh. He’s feeling worse about the situation by the second. Something has to be wrong. “Can you give me a ride?”

—

It takes a little bit for Kyungsoo to empty out his saddlebags into the trunk of Jongin’s car, and a little bit more to park his bike somewhere safe, but eventually they’re zooming down the highway toward Junmyeon’s fortress. Jongin hasn’t said a word since he agreed other than to insist that Kyungsoo use the seatbelt.

“So where did you even get that gun anyway?” Kyungsoo says, finally unable to stand the awkward silence any longer.

Jongin glances over at him briefly. “I killed a monster in Chuncheon. He had it on him.”

“What kind of monster?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin says. “He looked…kind of like a turtle?” He squints at the road, as if he could still see it. “Had a hole in his head that held water?”

“Oh, a Kappa,” Kyungsoo says. “Huh, didn’t think Japanese monsters made it all the way to Chuncheon.”

“Huh,” Jongin echoes.

“Hi-Points are possibly one of the shittiest guns in existence,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re better off throwing it away and just sticking with melee weapons.”

Jongin nods. “I guess I should’ve figured that out when he shot at me and it didn’t work. I just thought I was lucky. It’s worked a lot of other times though.”

“Yeah, well, broken clocks are still right twice a day and all that,” Kyungsoo mutters.

“Hello, boys,” purrs a voice from the backseat, and Jongin is so startled that the car veers sharply to the left, sending its occupants tumbling to the right side of the cabin before he corrects its path.

Kyungsoo lowers his gun into his lap with a harsh curse under his breath. He holds a hand up to Jongin, although ‘I got this’ isn’t exactly what he’s feeling at the moment. It still makes his stomach churn every time they run into each other.

“Baekhyun,” he snarls.

“Ooh, he’s a looker, isn’t he?” the demon says, eyes raking down Jongin’s body.

“What’s going on?” Jongin asks.

“What do you want,” Kyungsoo says, ignoring Jongin for now. The quicker Baekhyun is gone, the quicker he can breathe.

The demon brushes the back of his knuckles briefly along Jongin’s jawline before he gets shaken off, Jongin craning his neck back to shoot him a look that’s equal parts suspicion and disgust. Baekhyun is unphased, winking lewdly at Kyungsoo. “Sharing is caring, right?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers.

Kyungsoo shakes his head minutely. Dealing with Baekhyun requires his full attention. “If you don’t hurry up and get to a point, I’m going to plug you full of buckshot,” he warns.

Baekhyun claps a hand over his mouth in mock horror. “And ruin this pretty face? I don’t think you’d have the heart to.”

The demon’s got him there, so Kyungsoo changes tactics, going for silent glaring instead. Baekhyun quickly grows bored, letting out a long sigh that ends in a low hum. “So,” he starts, leaning back in his seat and kicking his feet up on the armrest between Jongin and Kyungsoo. “I’ve gotten approval from the higher-ups...or is it lower-downs? Hmm…”

Kyungsoo stays quiet, looking very unamused.

“Anyway,” Baekhyun says, waving his hand. “For a limited time only, we are doing a one-for-one exchange program!”

“No,” Kyungsoo says just as the demon opens his mouth to go on. “Not interested. Go away.”

Baekhyun opens his eyes wider and bats his lashes. “Even for widdle ol’ me?”

“Go away,” he repeats, wrapping his hand around the grip of his shotgun. “Now.”

And then there were just the two of them. Jongin jerks his head back a couple of times to confirm before holding Kyungsoo’s gaze for as long as he dares to take his eyes off the road. “Can you finally tell me what the hell that was all about just now?” he asks.

“That was my brother,” Kyungsoo mumbles, strapping the shotgun back into the holster on his calf. “He’s a demon.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jongin gapes at him. Kyungsoo reaches over and nudges his chin up, closing his mouth with a soft ‘pop’ sound. He seems to remember that his attention to the road is needed to keep them alive, and turns back to the windshield, fingers gripping the wheel tightly.

The silence is deafening. Or...annoying, at any rate. “Well, he’s technically kind of not my brother,” Kyungsoo appends. “My brother got possessed a year ago...probably a couple of weeks before I saved you.” He looks out his window, and watches the scenery breeze past in the early morning.

“There is a spell to exorcise demons,” Jongin says.

“I know it,” Kyungsoo answers, settling back in his seat. “But the demon’s injured his body beyond repair. If I exorcise it, he’ll die.”

“He’s effectively dead right now if a demon is controlling him.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Kyungsoo says, trying to keep the bite out of his tone. It comes off as worn down instead of snappy. Exactly how he feels about it all. Just exhausted. “But that’s my brother I see whenever he shows up.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I keep track of it. I clean up its messes. I keep it from hurting people.”

Silence. Kyungsoo eventually turns around to see Jongin biting his lip, extra focused on the road. He rolls his eyes. “Spit it out.”

“You can’t  _ really _ keep it from hurting people,” Jongin says gently. “You can just minimize its casualties. I don’t think-” He bites his lip again. 

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo knows all of this. He’s fought himself many times over on this. It doesn’t matter. “Let me give you some advice. It’s the most important piece of advice you’ll hear in our line of work.” Jongin glances over, looking wary. “Don’t get attached. To anyone. Hunter or civilian or otherwise. Don’t pull other people into this life. Don’t form relationships. Don’t have friends. Don’t trust anybody. Forewarned, forearmed, doesn’t mean shit. People still die. We’re fighting  _ monsters _ . Everyone dies. My brother...there will come a time when I have to.”

It takes some time before Jongin speaks again. “What was he talking about earlier?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “My bet is they know that the angels want my body, so they’re offering to let us switch places,” Kyungsoo says, remembering Baekhyun’s wording earlier.

“Like...have you be possessed and let your brother go free?” Jongin asks.

“I offered that to them,” Kyungsoo says. “Months ago. I kept trapping demons and offering. I begged. They turned me down. They laughed at me. And now, suddenly, they want to deal. It can’t be a coincidence.”

They fall into another silence. Kyungsoo checks the next mile marker. They’re not too far away now.

“You’re friends with this person we’re going to see though, aren’t you?” Jongin pipes up a bit later.

“Junmyeon is different,” Kyungsoo says. “He’s like my mom. I knew him from before...this whole hunting business. And he can’t hunt anymore, so he just holes up in his house and finds cases for me. I go there to do my laundry and restock on shit.”

“Oh.”

Kyungsoo watches Jongin drive for the next few miles. He’s not  _ heartless _ . To bum a ride with someone after you tried to sneak out after a one night stand is a pretty dick move. Jongin deserves at least an apology or something. He’s so sincere and sweet. It’s not fair. But then Kyungsoo reminds himself that everybody in their line of work came into it through tragedy. Those traits will get you killed. Better to be wounded and grow a little more jaded. Consider it a life lesson. Kyungsoo shifts in his seat and winces, scooting around to find a better position.

“Did I hurt you last night?” Jongin asks shyly. Dammit, he needed to stop with those eyes. It makes him look all soft and innocent, and it was the same exact expression he made around a mouthful of cock last night. It’s distracting as shit.

“A little sore.” Kyungsoo smiles despite himself. “Totally worth it though.” Damn it, shut  _ up _ . But he catches the proud little smile that fleets across Jongin’s lips.  _ So _ cute. “Take the next exit.”

Jongin follows his instructions until they wind up on dirt roads, driving deeper into a forest until they come up to a gravel driveway in front of an old cabin. The front door was left wide open. That’s never a good sign.

“Just turn back and follow this road. It’s two lefts and a right. That’ll take you back to the highway,” Kyungsoo says as he scans the woods for movement, grabbing his stuff and opening the door. He hears Jongin’s door shut just a moment after his and looks over to see him walking toward the house. “What are you doing?”

“Can I come with you?” Jongin asks. “I can help.”

“No. Thank you for getting me here,” Kyungsoo says. He’s a bit gruff, but this isn’t the time for niceties. “But I don’t even know what’s going on right now. We could be surrounded. You need to get out of here.”

“You’re  _ limping _ right now,” Jongin argues. “You can use some backup.”

Yep, him and his size queen asshole. (Versus queen sized asshole, Kyungsoo supposes.) Story of his life, basically. Jongin has a point. But he is just going to be a distraction. But he has a  _ point _ . 

“Stay behind me,” Kyungsoo says, dropping his voice as he advances toward the door. He draws his gun and hands Jongin his backup. “Shoot anything that moves.”

It takes a long time, but they clear the house. There are giant cobwebs dangling from the walls and ceilings, as if it’s been years since anyone has gone inside. The house has a very distinct odor floating around in it, a heavy, musky cloud. Kyungsoo knows the smell, but can’t quite pinpoint it. In Junmyeon’s study, they find what looks like signs of a fight, but luckily no blood.

“This seems out of place?” Jongin mumbles, using his foot to gesture toward something on the floor.

Kyungsoo steps closer and crouches down to look at it. A scrap of red silk. Some long black strands of hair. Ugh. It was obvious from the start, but he’d been hoping he was wrong. “I think you found our clue, Scooby Doo,” he says, using a pen to lift it up to the light.

“What is it?” Jongin asks.

“So...do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Is there good news?

“Not really,” Kyungsoo says, letting the silk fall to the ground with a sigh. “I gotta go up into the mountains.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jongin says firmly.

Kyungsoo grimaces at him. “How do you feel about spiders?”

—

It takes hours to find the cave. They should have stopped on the way here to eat something. Hunting on an empty stomach 1) sucks and 2) is bad for being discreet. Kyungsoo lost his footing at one point and Jongin caught him, Disney princess style, before he could faceplant into some thorns. So they’ve been awkwardly avoiding eye contact for the last leg of the climb.

“Remember, don’t bother with headshots,” Kyungsoo whispers as they stand at the mouth of the cave. He holds up the smelly makeshift beanbags. “Do you need extras?”

“No,” Jongin answers, showing the ones in his left hand, gun in his right. “Hit ‘em with the sulphur bags, shoot, and hope they catch fire. Rinse, repeat. I got it.”

“And they’re poisonous,” Kyungsoo reminds him as they head inside.

“I don’t plan on biting them,” Jongin says.

“What?”

“Poisonous?” Jongin repeats.

Kyungsoo tilts his head and stares blankly for a moment before rolling his eyes. “ _ Venomous _ ,” he corrects.

“Well, I don’t think I want anything biting me regardless,” Jongin says.

The cave has that same musky smell, but more concentrated. It feels like it’s coating his skin and in his mouth. Blech. Cobwebs everywhere, strung up the way people decorate with banners and pennants. Except...gross. Like bad Halloween decorations. But deadly. Fun times.

Something scuttles around the corner and they both aim their guns in that direction. “I  _ smell _ you…” a high female voice sings out, taunting. “I know who you  _ are… _ ”

“Look,” Jongin whispers, gesturing with his gun toward a lumpy stack against the wall. Cocooned bodies. He can make out the top half of Junmyeon’s face among them, the rest of him covered in webbing like a mummy. His eyes were closed.

“Leave him til the end,” Kyungsoo whispers back. “We can’t help him if they kill us. He’s either still alive and knocked out or he’s already dead. He can’t help us either way right now.”

“ _ Do Seungsoo _ ,” another female says, her voice carrying throughout the cave. “You killed our sisters!”

Something heavy lands on him and Kyungsoo crashes to the ground. He thrashes, trying to flip over and fend it off, but he feels vicious blades slicing into his back, shredding him up as the woman howls on top of him. He hears Jongin firing off several bullets, and  _ finally _ the weight is off of him. It hurts, but he quickly gets back on his feet as Jongin tries to throw the sulphur bags at the woman. She’s blazingly fast, just a blur of red silk racing away from them. Kyungsoo digs into his jacket and hands Jongin the rest of his. “Ration them, stay close,” he orders, taking the gun away and holding them both out. He’s a much better shot. Jongin misses, and the bags burst ineffectually as they hit the ground. All he can do is cross his fingers that Jongin didn’t use them all up and leave them with a big pile of sulfur in the middle of the cave.

She was out of sight. It’s eerily silent. Not good. There were at least two of them, and they can scale the walls and ceiling. Clearly, sneaking up on them wasn’t going to work. He can feel blood dripping down his back. They could wait him out if they wanted, but it’s death to go further into the cave.

“Should we try to take the bodies and run for it?” Jongin asks. “You’re hurt really bad.”

“They’ll pick us off as we leave,” Kyungsoo answers. He’s still panting, unable to catch his breath. They need to finish this fight quickly.

“Plan?” Jongin asks. When in doubt, there’s always the Backup Plan: talk shit and shoot first. He learned that from Han Solo.

“Wrong brother, bitch,” Kyungsoo shouts. “Thought there were only five of you. I took out three  _ easily _ . Maybe if you didn’t abandon them to die, you’d still be together.”

“How  _ dare _ you,” comes the answering shriek.

They catch some movement, and then there is a woman standing by the pile of bodies, wearing a strip of silk to cover her breasts and a long red skirt that dragged along the floor. Her navel sparkled bright red off of the dim lighting in the cave. Kyungsoo holds his gun out but grits his teeth. There’s no way they can hit her where she’s at and not set Junmyeon on fire as well. She’ll have to come to them.

She raises her hand and it lengthens, darkens, and becomes more jointed, looking not unlike an animated tree branch. Or a human sized spider leg. She hovered it over the bodies and in a swift movement, sunk it deep into one of the mummy people’s chest, throwing her head back blissfully. “ _ Ahhh _ ,” she sighs, yanking it out dipping her human hand into the chest cavity, bringing it back to her lips as it dripped a deep red. She looks straight at Kyungsoo and licks the blood off her fingers. A bullet hole blooms between her eyes and she raises her eyebrows at him in amusement, casually wiping at the green ichor that drips out.

“You said don’t bother with headshots,” Jongin reminds him quietly, after the gunshot finishes echoing through the cave.

“Yeah, well,” Kyungsoo says. That was impulsive and stupid. “She just murdered someone.”

“My lunch,” she corrects, flashing him a bloody smile as she reaches back for more. The wound in her forehead is almost done closing.

Along the opposite wall, just on the edge of his periphery, Kyungsoo can see another spider advancing. This was their plan? To distract with one and sneak in with the other? Well, that was basically their plan too, but hey. He dips his head down and whispers under his breath, praying Jongin would understand. “On the left.”

Thankfully, Jongin doesn’t turn and make it obvious. He doesn’t do anything, really, and Kyungsoo is almost afraid he didn’t even hear. But he can see Jongin tightening his grip on one of the bean bags, so here’s to hoping.

There’s another sickening crack as the woman before them sinks her claw into another person’s chest. “That’s kind of wasteful, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo yells at her. “I mean, you’re skinny as shit. Surely one person would last you like at  _ least  _ a week.”

She makes a show of sucking the blood off each of her fingers this time. “But I’m about to have two more to add to my collection,” she purrs. “I feel like treating myself.”

“Gotta get in before your sisters do, huh? Gotcha,” Kyungsoo says, trying to track the movements of the one on the wall. She’s cleared half the distance between them already. “That’s what happened to the rest of your family, too busy fighting each other like  _ stupid animals _ . It was too easy to take them all out. They popped like ants under a magnifying glass.  _ Crunchy _ .”

The one on the wall lets out an enraged cry, charging toward them as the other one shouts at her. Jongin’s bean bag sails through the air and explodes as one of Kyungsoo’s bullets hit home. She runs right into the cloud of yellow powder just as it combusts, covering her in a bright blue fire. Shit. He’s emptied the 1911. The Beretta has  _ maybe  _ three shots left.

The other woman wails as her sister rapidly burns away into dust. She rushes at them, zigzagging lightning fast to avoid both the bags and bullets. Two shots come and go. The slide hasn’t locked back yet. Kyungsoo has a lightbulb moment a split second before she passes over the pile of sulphur on the ground, and fires their last shot at it instead. She runs through the blue flames, skirt catching fire, but momentum keeps her going. He can just see the whites of her eyes when everything goes slow-mo. The beanbag catches her in the stomach and bursts. The flames lick up the new fuel and spread higher up her body. And then she tackles Kyungsoo to the ground and her claw sinks into his shoulder.

The next thing he knows, he’s being dragged backward away from the burning body and Jongin’s face fills his vision. Through the numb haze, he can hear Jongin asking if he’s okay and checking the wound. Kyungsoo shakes his head rapidly and pushes him away, trying to clear the cloud. “Reload,” he whispers? Shouts? He doesn’t even know where the guns are. “Reload or we’re dead.”

Jongin fishes the 1911 out from underneath the charred remnants of the body and hurries back, quickly patting down Kyungsoo’s jacket and awkwardly popping the new clip in. The other body has burned down, but the fire has spread to some nearby webbing, changing to orange as it dances along the threads. The cave is eerily silent now.

“We have to go,” Jongin says, helping him to his feet. Kyungsoo manages to stand despite the bloodloss. 

“There might be more,” Kyungsoo says, shocked by how weak he sounds. “There were five last time.”

“Isn’t seven like the usual number?” Jongin asks, picking up the Beretta that had apparently fallen right next to Kyungsoo. “Maybe they were the last two. I think we should head out. If there are more, we can deal with them then, but we have to get out of here. Right now.”

Jongin has to catch him when he tries to take a step toward the bodies. Kyungsoo sags heavily as he tries to regain footing. “I’m going to bring you out first, and I’ll come back for them,” Jongin suggests.

“Absolutely not.”

“You can hardly walk,” Jongin tries to reason.

“You can hardly shoot,” Kyungsoo counters.

There’s the moral dilemma of what to do with the dead bodies. It would be wrong to leave them behind, but they were running on a very limited amount of resources at the moment. Beside Junmyeon, only one other person looked alive. Jongin looked nauseous, but carefully pulled the corpses closer to the exit in a cleared off area as Kyungsoo cut Junmyeon out of his spider roll and hoped he would awaken. He finishes cutting loose the second body by the time Jongin is done moving the rest.

“How will we send people here to bring them out?” Jongin asks, wiping the sweat off his face.

“We make an anonymous call to the police,” Kyungsoo answers, slapping Junmyeon’s cheeks.

“But...our fingerprints…and stuff…” Jongin says.

“Yeah, about that,” Kyungsoo says, sighing in relief as Junmyeon’s eyes flutter open. “Avoid the cops from now on. Come on, Sleeping Beauty, up and at ‘em.”

Junmyeon is weak; dehydrated mostly. He can walk, but at a snail’s pace. Which suits Kyungsoo just fine. He doesn’t feel up to running any marathons at the moment. Jongin probably isn’t either, carrying the other body over his shoulder. The other person wouldn’t wake up, but he had a pulse and was breathing.

Kyungsoo falls over once they get out of the cave, adrenaline drained away. He blacks out for a moment, and comes back to Jongin’s worried face saying nonsense to him. His jacket is peeled away, and he can hear Junmyeon talking, but he can’t make his mouth work right to say anything back.

—

Kyungsoo wakes up to his empty stomach complaining loudly. It takes a minute, but he realizes he’s lying in Junmyeon’s spare bed. He rolls to sitting with a loud groan as his back feels like it’s set on fire, and stabbing pain shoots down his shoulder into his chest. A lump stirs from the floor and he watches Jongin get to his feet and hurry toward the bed. “Are you okay? You should lie back down.”

“How did I get here?” Kyungsoo grunts out, sucking in shallow breaths between his teeth.

“Lay down,” Jongin coaxes. “I carried you.”

Kyungsoo lays on his uninjured side. It really doesn’t help much. “What about everyone else?”

Jongin purses his lips. “They’re here. I brought you back to the car and drove it back up to the cave.”

“How long was I out?” Kyungsoo asks, opening his eyes back up.

“I’ll get you some food. Junmyeon probably needs to give you medicine or change your bandages or something,” Jongin says, and then he’s gone the next moment.

—

“I don’t know. My theory is that basically all Korean monsters were shunned or scorned people who were too bitter to die, so they eventually turned into monsters.” Kyungsoo says as he blows on his ramyeon. “Which is bullshit, because the people who shunned or scorned them clearly died a long fucking time ago, and now we’re left to deal with their mess.”

“Makes sense,” Jongin mumbles, slurping up the last of his broth. “That's sad though.”

“So’s everything else in life,” Kyungsoo says with a shrug.

“So what's going to happen with Jongdae?” Jongin asks, referring to the other survivor from the cave. He was a little more dehydrated than Junmyeon, but is recovering well. 

“He's gonna have to crash on Junmyeon's couch while he heals. This is  _ my _ room,” Kyungsoo says with a cheeky smile. “Thank you, by the way. You’re free to leave whenever you want.”

Jongin's face falls, and he tries to hide it by looking down at his empty bowl. “I was happy to help,” he says, getting up quickly. “Um...I guess I'll get going then.”

“I mean,” Kyungsoo says loudly. Dammit, shut  _ up _ . “If you have somewhere to be. But you can stay for a while if you want to too?” Why did he say that…

“Would that be okay?” Jongin asks slowly. 

“Well, this is a really small cabin,” Kyungsoo says. “But I'm sure we can find somewhere for you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Healing is boring. Boredom makes Kyungsoo horny. Idle minds, idle hands, and all that.

In other news, Jongin does yoga. As in he was a yoga instructor, before all of this hunting monsters stuff. A  _ yoga instructor _ . He does an hour long routine with the sunrise every morning, as Kyungsoo discovered one morning when he had to get up and take a leak and found Jongin planking on the front porch. 

In other  _ other  _ news, Kyungsoo now drinks coffee on the front porch and wakes up with the sun as well. Because it's good for one's health, he's heard.

Jongin's onto him, the little minx. This morning, he's doing his routine shirtless and in  _ tight _ tight stretchy yoga pants. Kyungsoo can make out the outline of his dick against his thigh every time Jongin goes Downward Dog. And he goes  _ down _ ward dog, long fucking legs stretching out so his ass sticks up in the air right in front of Kyungsoo’s face.

Dammit, he just really wants to know what Jongin sounds like when he's taking dick. And what he looks like. And what he  _ feels _ like. Like, can he make those big, innocent doe eyes when his big fat dick is slapping against his stomach? Is he a whiner? Kyungsoo just...has a mighty need to know. And to  _ ruin _ him.

Jongin, bless his limber little heart, has spent Kyungsoo’s recovery days trying to explain everything to Jongdae, who’s still rather shell-shocked over everything that’s happened. The last time Kyungsoo saw them together, Jongin was sketching out diagrams and flowcharts. It was adorable. Because Jongin is the cutest little nerd, who chose to sleep in the library of the tiny cabin. Kyungsoo’s caught him falling asleep over a pile of books several times already.

Seriously, he really, really needs to fuck Jongin. But he can’t, because it’d be a terrible idea to fuck someone whom 1) he’s hooked up with previously and 2) he’s currently stuck living with.

Four men sharing one bathroom is torture. Kyungsoo makes a mad dash out of his bedroom once he hears Junmyeon finally get out of the bathroom. He needs to wank some of this frustration out and has no desire to clean spunk out of his sheets. The hallway is empty.  _ Yes _ . Kyungsoo grabs the door handle and sidesteps in, barely noticing that the light is on until he turns around to see Jongin bent over, peeling the sweaty spandex off of his lower half, looking at Kyungsoo in surprise.

Looking at Kyungsoo and his  _ rock hard boner _ in surprise. That’s fine, Kyungsoo can look at Jongin and his giant dick too. Jongin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks absolutely mouthwatering. Maybe it’ll be acceptable if they just jerk each other off really quick…

“I was gonna...did you need to use the bathroom?” Jongin asks. His glasses were fogging up from the humidity so he reaches up and takes them off.

“No, I—” It’s  _ growing _ . He wonders if Jongin would actually mind if Kyungsoo dropped to his knees and sucked him to full hardness. Or if he bent Jongin over the bathtub and tested how dampened the sound is in this room.

Jongin doesn’t come to him. He just laces his fingers together in front of him, partially shielding his crotch, and stares at Kyungsoo with those soft puppy eyes. And stark naked and hard. “You can...have the shower first if you want,” he offers, tone saying something else entirely.

This is a bad idea. But he’s like 99% sure Jongin would let him fuck him up against the shower wall. But this is a  _ bad _ idea. But he  _ really _ has a thing for fucking guys with bigger dicks and watching them fall apart around his. But  _ bad _ . But Jongin’s pretty doe eyes, and his pretty golden skin covered in Kyungsoo’s cum, his pretty lips stretched around Kyungsoo’s cock again.

“ _ Goddammit _ , you’re so fucking cute,” Kyungsoo snaps at him before turning around and storming back to his room.

—

There’s a knock at his door a little bit later. Kyungsoo sits up quickly to make sure his shame napkins in the wastebin are buried under regular, disguise napkins and hollers for whoever to come in. As if it could be anybody else. Jongin stands at the doorway, bouncing side to side on the balls of his feet before deciding to actually step into the room.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says casually, gingerly leaning back against the wall. His back is almost completely healed. Unfortunately, his leather jacket actually took the brunt of the damage. It lay in tatters in Junmyeon’s garage, coated in crusted old blood. Kyungsoo can’t bear remembering it. His brother gave him that jacket.

“Hey,” Jongin echoes, walking closer to the bed with hesitant eyes. “Umm...you yelled something at me earlier, and...I think I might’ve misheard, because...it sounded like a good thing, but you didn’t sound...happy about it?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo drawls out slowly. “Sorry about that. I thought the bathroom was empty.” A non-answer. Seems legit.

Jongin’s eyes furrow in confusion and Kyungsoo wants to bite him for how attracted he is to the look on Jongin’s face. “What?” he asks.

“Maybe you should quit,” Kyungsoo says, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Move to a quiet little town, open up a yoga studio or something. You were probably a  _ really _ fucking good yoga teacher.”

“What does that have to do with…” Jongin trails off, looking increasingly befuddled.

“You’re really cute,” Kyungsoo finds himself saying. “God, you’re cute as hell. You’re so sweet. You need to get away from this life. I’m not even talking about monsters killing you. People will take advantage of you any chance they get. You can do way better than this.”

Jongin’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “I helped you back in the cave,” he argues, taking a step forward. He looks hurt, which was completely not what Kyungsoo was going for. “I’m not a great hunter by any means yet, but I’ve been studying and I just need some more practice.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kyungsoo says, holding his hands up. “I’m just saying you deserve a much better life than one built on survivor’s guilt.”

“And what do you deserve?” Jongin asks softly.

Kyungsoo meets his gaze and holds it for nearly a minute before looking away, feeling too uncomfortably close to having a moment there. “I deserve a beer, my bike, and a hot young thing in a shitty motel room for the night,” he says with a grin. “I’m gonna head back into town. If you’re staying, you can use my room. Otherwise, can you give me a ride?”


	8. Chapter 8

Kyungsoo isn’t dressed for seduction right now. He hasn’t showered properly in days because of his injuries, so his hair is a greasy mess with nearly an inch of black roots showing under the wine red that was already dulling since Junmyeon doesn't keep color safe shampoo. He couldn’t shave properly because the spider got him in the damn right shoulder. He doesn’t even have his sexy leather jacket anymore. So he's a stubbly, grungy mess, but at least he doesn’t smell, and really, that should be good enough.

He walks to the car to find Jongin bent over the trunk, rearranging bags and wearing his tight fucking spandex pants again. This boy better just be dressed this way because he’s wanting some dick, because this is just not proper hunter attire. If Kyungsoo wasn’t so distracted by how the fabric thins out just barely over his perky little ass, he’d lay into him on how he always has to be prepared for danger and proper clothing is part of it. But damn,  _ dat ass. _ Who could attack an ass like that?

Well, Kyungsoo would. He'd  _ ravage _ it.

Jongin rushes over to grab his bag. “I’m fine,” Kyungsoo mutters, all the wind going out of his sails as he tries to resist cooing at the attention. “It’s my other shoulder. I can still carry a damn bag.”

“But you don’t have to,” Jongin says simply, holding the passenger door open for him. Cute fucker.

They drive for nearly a minute before Kyungsoo can’t stand it anymore. “Just so we’re clear, you’re doing this intentionally, right?”

“Huh?” Jongin asks, glancing over quickly.

“This sexy-” Kyungsoo gestures up and down Jongin’s body, which he supposes is a little vague, but at the same time, it’s perfectly valid. “Like this bedroom eyes, temptress thing.”

“I think it’s tempter, for men,” Jongin says.

“Whatever,” Kyungsoo says, waving him off. “I’m asking if I suck your dick right now, is that going to bother you?”

Jongin adjusts his glasses nervously, “Should I pull over?”

“Do you want your dick sucked?” Kyungsoo asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and folding his legs up under him.

“Yes?”

“Then no. Keep driving. Two lefts and a right. Lift your butt,” Kyungsoo says, yanking Jongin's ridiculous pants down his thighs. “So yes then?”

“Please,” Jongin answers breathlessly, pushing them further past his knees and spreading his legs.

“Don’t kill us,” Kyungsoo warns as he leans over the shifter and licks his lips messily. Jongin lets out a soft cry as he sinks down immediately until the head hits the back of his throat. It feels awkward, sucking from the side instead of directly in front. Kyungsoo has to open his mouth wider to guard his teeth and there’s not the familiar pushing stretch at the corners of his lips, but he lifts up to lap at the smooth head and dips back down, wrapping his hand around the remaining length. He's not even halfway down...

Nope. No. He's  _ gonna _ fuck Jongin in the backseat. He needs to stay focused.

“Ohh…” Jongin moans out, adjusting his legs. Kyungsoo can hear him repositioning the steering wheel higher. How considerate.

“Is this gonna— _ oh— _ is this gonna hurt your back?” Jongin gasps as Kyungsoo bobs up and down, swirling his tongue over the head with each pass. Well, it wasn't hurting until he mentioned it, goddammit.

Kyungsoo sits back up, trailing a line of saliva briefly. Jongin fixates on the bit that stays on his chin. “Do you want your dick sucked or not?”

“Yes,” Jongin says, nodding for emphasis. “I do. But I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

Kyungsoo reaches over and gives him a couple of swift tugs. “You better cum fast then. Okay?” He doesn't bother waiting for an answer, sinking back down and sucking hard on the head every time he came back up.

“Ahh,  _ Kyungsoo _ ,” Jongin whimpers. He sounds so desperate. It was adorable. “Kyungsoo, oh please, can you take more?”

He’s deep-throated from the front seat before, but Jongin's dick has a big, fat head, and Kyungsoo knows his strengths and weaknesses. He has to pop off and rearrange himself so he's practically laying across the shifter, but Kyungsoo manages to twist himself into a better angle, swallowing slowly as he relaxes his throat. Above him, Jongin pants even heavier and tries to turn his body more toward Kyungsoo. It helps, and he's managed to fit most of Jongin's cock down his throat, but it's still a bit of a struggle every time he comes up for air and has to go back down. Not to mention, his mouth is getting tired. His neck is starting to ache.

The dirt road is relatively straight and they're going slow enough right now. Kyungsoo sits up again, leaning in and making a big show of kissing Jongin, pulling a loud moan from his lips as Kyungsoo continues to jerk him off. “You've been trying to get me to fuck you, haven't you?”

“I— _ ohh _ …” Jongin's knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He's started subconsciously bucking his hips up into Kyungsoo's hand. “Please, Kyungsoo…”

“Please what?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Please...can I pull over,” Jongin gasps. “So you can fuck me?”

And then he hits Kyungsoo with the full force of those innocent Fuck Me eyes, and who the hell is Kyungsoo to deny such a request. He is a servant of the people. “Okay,” he whispers.

They're on the side of the road and in the backseat in a blur. Jongin tries to pull Kyungsoo toward him, but Kyungsoo gives him a pinched look and climbs toward the driver’s door, locking all the other ones. He pulls his bag out of the back and slides a gun into the cubby on the door. “God, you're so fucking sexy,” he growls out, yanking Jongin's pants the rest of the way off as he shrugs out of his shirt. “Junmyeon has this whole area warded off and it's the middle of the day, but you still always have to be prepared. You have to be careful.” Kyungsoo's sure his stern lecture is going really well, what with him playing with Jongin's dick the whole time. He pushes the lube toward the younger as he awkwardly tries to shed his own clothes. “Turn around and stretch yourself, baby. I wanna see.”

Jongin tried to be showy and seductive about it, and while Kyungsoo appreciates the thought, he wants to be balls-deep in that ass right now. He gives it a smack, smiling at the crisp sound and rubs around the wet rim, pushing a finger in alongside Jongin's. “Hurry, beautiful.”

“I'm ready,” Jongin gasps, impatiently turning back around and climbing onto Kyungsoo's lap, rolling his hips down as Kyungsoo hurriedly tries to figure out the condom. Jongin's already lubed up his cock and is grinding his own length against it, making deliciously needy little noises. It was distracting as fuck, and Kyungsoo takes an embarrassingly long amount of time to wrap up, too busy staring.

Jongin dribbles a fresh line of lube over Kyungsoo’s shaft and grabs it firmly to position at his entrance, sinking down smoothly. His eyes flutter close and he throws his head back with a satisfied smile.

“Look at you,” Kyungsoo observes, guiding Jongin’s hips as he starts to move. “All wanton and purring like a sex kitten on top of me…” He braces his feet on the center console and rocks his hips upward. “Is the shy little boy thing just an act?”

Jongin chuckles breathlessly against his lips. “You feel so good,” he moans out, speeding up and swiveling his hips every time his ass meets Kyungsoo’s thighs, his heavy dick slapping Kyungsoo’s stomach with each bounce. He's making the most of their cramped space. “And I’ve been wanting you inside me since I found you again.”

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo can’t disappoint now. He grabs Jongin’s waist and rolls them over onto Jongin’s back, thrusting hard and earning a stream of moans in return. Jongin reaches between them and starts fisting his length, mewling as he struggles to keep his eyes on Kyungsoo’s face. “You feel pretty fucking good yourself,” Kyungsoo growls, spreading his thighs further apart.

“Oh, I’m getting close,” Jongin whimpers, sounding almost surprised amidst his soft cries. He lifts up, hanging onto Kyungsoo’s neck as he latches onto Kyungsoo’s lips. He’s so needy and whiny, and looking like a wet dream with pouty lips and fuck-me eyes. Kyungsoo can feel himself swelling even more despite the sting in his shoulder from the angle.

“Me too, baby, hang on,” he grunts out.

“Kyungsoo, we need to talk—” comes a familiar voice from the passenger seat.

“What the f—” Jongin asks, eyes wide.

“No, no, no,” Kyungsoo rushes out, groaning as Jongin clenches hard around in him surprise. “Go away, asshole,” he shouts, not even bothering to look back. “Look at me,” he tells Jongin, reaching between them to wrap his hand over Jongin’s, pulling it up and down Jongin’s length, trying to chase after his release. “He’ll go away. He’s gone, he’s gone. Focus, baby, I’m so close.”

Jongin, of course, keeps trying to look over for the angel in the front seat. Kyungsoo is seconds away from busting a nut and can’t be looking subpar just because of some holy cockblocker. He leans down, hand flying over Jongin’s cock as he presses their lips together, sucking Jongin’s bottom lip into his mouth and dragging his teeth across it. Kyungsoo’s orgasm hits him hard, and he groans loudly as he continues to pump into Jongin’s body. He feels Jongin’s hot walls spasming around him just as the wave subsides, and hot cum hitting his palm as Jongin wails his name underneath him.

Kyungsoo is a gentleman, so he stays propped up, back burning, holding a handful of cum dripping between his fingers, and waits for Jongin to recover as he catches his breath. But wow. When people talk about afterglow though, Jongin fucking  _ glows _ . Lashes wet, lips swollen, he looks like a god, splayed out with the morning sun filtering in through the trees and the window just right on his flushed face. Dammit, they're gonna have to do this again.

“Are you finished fornicating yet?” grumbles Sehun from the front seat.

“Look at you being all progressive,” Kyungsoo says, still trying to suck in air. “And here I thought you'd be bitching about sodomy. I'd slow-clap, but, you know, cum from the fornication.”

“I thought you said he left,” Jongin mumbles tiredly, growing shy again as he tries to gather clothes to cover himself up.

Kyungsoo winces as his softened dick slips out. He reaches down and grabs his shirt, scrubbing the spunk off his hands and using it to wipe off all the lube and jizz leftover once he pulls the condom off. He  _ just did laundry _ , dammit. “Yeah, I'm sorry,” he mutters, wrapping the shirt around the condom and dropping it to the floor. “I'll make it up to you though, okay?”

“I have word that Hell has tried to offer your brother's soul in exchange for your vessel,” Sehun says, undeterred. “This cannot occur.”

“Okay, dude, can I like cover my dick up first at least?” Kyungsoo snaps, snatching his briefs off the shifter with a glare at the angel. “You don't knock, you don't leave, you don't help out even except to spectate with shitty commentary, the least you could do is shut the fuck up until I'm ready.”

“While you worry about mundane things like seminal emissions, the hordes of Hell is trying to bring forth the apocalypse. There is no time to delay. You must consent to Luhan.”

Kyungsoo turns to Jongin, who's leaning over the backseat to fish out a pair of jeans from his bag. “You wanna make a weekend of it? You, me, a seedy motel, see how long we can survive on pizza?”

“I know what you're doing,” Sehun says, disgruntled. “You are ignoring me.”

“I can even ward the room so geniuses with little flappy wings and big bubble butts can't get in,” Kyungsoo says sweetly.

Jongin finishes yanking the tight jeans up to his hips and leans back to button them, peeking up at Kyungsoo under his lashes with a small smile. “I'd like that. With wards too, preferably.”

Sehun starts complaining about something, but Kyungsoo happily speaks over him. “I bet you could fold yourself in half practically, couldn't you?” he purrs, leaning over Jongin again.

“I can,” Jongin says sheepishly, cheeks reddening as he looks down demurely.

“Kyungsoo—”

“You wanna fuck me again?” Kyungsoo says, dropping his voice lower as he nuzzles against Jongin's neck. He can see Jongin's jeans starting to tent.

“—the fate of the world depends on you surrendering your vessel—”

“I want to eat you out again,” Jongin sighs. Kyungsoo smirks against his neck, cupping Jongin's ass. Who knew the kid had it in him? Or was he not playing along? “You sounded so hot.”

“— _ to the right host and not let— _ ”

“Mm,” Kyungsoo hums. “We need to see if we can fit your whole cock down my throat too. It was a bad angle this time.” Really, it was a point of pride. Kyungsoo could give some mind-blowing head. He can't have Jongin leaving thinking he could only take half.

“—irrational human impulses guide you to everyone's mutual destruction!” Sehun shouts, causing the car to shake and the windows make almost a high pitched whining sound, threatening to shatter.

Jongin actually startles, as if he's really managed to tune Sehun out this whole time. He's got that adorable deer-in-headlights look again, like he didn't just offer to eat ass and talk about how he rendered Kyungsoo a useless puddle from it last time. 

“I'm not selling my soul to anyone,” Kyungsoo barks, glaring over at Sehun. “They offered, but you offered too, and I'm not gagging on Lulu’s dick right now, am I?”

“I understand that they are using your brother’s form to tempt you—”

“You understand nothing, and you need to shut your mouth before I punch you,” Kyungsoo warns.

“Can you heal him?” Jongin asks. “His brother, I mean? You can cast out the demon and heal his body, can't you?”

“Don't bother,” Kyungsoo spits out, glaring holes into Sehun's head. “He can but he won't. So fuck you. Get out. We have places to be.”

“Your brother's fate has been sealed. I cannot go—”

Jongin is determined. “Can you heal Kyungsoo? He was injured. You're supposed to be protecting his vessel, aren't you?” 

“I don't need him,” Kyungsoo growls.

“You, I can heal,” Sehun says, reaching out only to get his hand smacked away. He waves and Kyungsoo goes flying back against the seat, crying out as he feels the wound in his shoulder open back up. The angel leans forth and lays a hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder. “Do not be petulant, Kyungsoo.”

The stinging vanishes, as well as the ache in his back and the invisible force pinning him back. Kyungsoo resumes his glaring. “Get out.”

“Think on my offer. Heaven is willing to negotiate.” And then he was gone.

“I'd rather you stay out of this in the future,” Kyungsoo grinds out, still seething from earlier.

“I'm sorry,” Jongin says immediately, looking remorseful. “I didn't think he would...do it like that. I just—”

“It's okay,” Kyungsoo says, exhaling and trying to let all of that drama flow out of him in that breath. “It's fine. Just don't do it again please.”

“Okay,” Jongin says in a small voice.

“So first things first,” Kyungsoo says, clapping his hands together once. “We need to get back to town, get some food, and I'm gonna show you how to shoot properly. Good?”

“Yeah,” Jongin answer excitedly, turning to open the door.

Kyungsoo scurries into the front seat just as Jongin climbs in. “And then we'll get a motel room and I'm gonna fuck your brains out.”

“Promise?” Still meek, but a little smile this time. It makes Jongin's eyes crinkle, and Kyungsoo feels his knees go weak. Cute fucker.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter actually contains a type of monster from the actual Supernatural tv show. You don't need to know anything about it to understand, but if you are familiar with the show, then it'd only help.

Jongin looks really good half-naked. Well, and fully-naked. But he's only half-naked now, with his mom jeans riding high on his slim hips as the tattoo artist fills in the outline of his shiny new anti-possession tat. It looks so good on him already, Kyungsoo has been sporting an on and off boner for nearly their entire time at the parlour.

“Don't think I've ever seen couple tattoos like these before,” the tattoo artist says.

“Yeah, we uh…” Kyungsoo starts, mind scurrying for an explanation, but too distracted by the sight of shirtless Jongin. “We like rock music.” He ignores Jongin's WTF look and smiles brightly at the dude, who just nods and goes back to filling in the sun rays.

“I never thought I'd get a tattoo,” Jongin says. At least he's finally stopped flinching now.

“It's good for you to have,” Kyungsoo reminds him, and the tattoo guy nods in agreement, clueless to its meaning.

“I know, but...it just feels weird,” Jongin mutters.

—

He does recall promising he'd fuck Jongin's brains out, but damn, that dick is something else and should not be wasted. Kyungsoo's groans are lewdly, uncontrollably loud as the aforementioned, glorious dick fills him back up again, legs quivering around Jongin's waist as the kid works on getting Kyungsoo his fourth orgasm of the day. This is already some kind of heaven, and if Jongin manages to cum before him, the all-star is all too willing to jam his tongue up Kyungsoo's asshole and jerk him off until Kyungsoo's babbling nonsense and cumming all over the bed and has to push him off to recover his sanity.

“Jesus—Christ,” Kyungsoo grunts out, face mashed against the pillow as Jongin plows into him, slow and deep, grinding hard against his numbing ass cheeks. “I don't think I can cum anymore, babe.”

“Do you...want me to stop?” Jongin asks, hips gentling cautiously.

“Just letting you know,” Kyungsoo says weakly, still in a daze as he manages to shake his head.

He could, in fact, cum again. And does, mewling pitifully as Jongin fucks him through it, ramming his ass sore enough that he doesn't even bother thinking about leaving their room—or _bed_ even. They luck out with some food delivery options in this town, and Kyungsoo pleasantly discovers on a meal break that while Jongin is a novice hunter at _best_ , he's actually quite proficient with book and lore stuff. And he's _damn_ good with spells. He only had to watch Kyungsoo scribble his sloppy warding spell by the door once before he could replicate it beautifully by the window— _better_ even. His lines are textbook perfect.

Between his raw bottom and Jongin's tender, freshly tatted chest, there are only a couple of positions open to them when Kyungsoo's dick wakes up and takes interest early the next morning. But _wow_ , Jongin is really flexible. And he takes dick like he's auditioning for a porno. Kyungsoo's ego manages to be more swollen than his cock as Jongin rides him, moaning the entire time and practically gasping and choking from his own orgasm after. He's no idea if Jongin is playing it up or not, but damn if it doesn't make him feel studly.

Jongin is an insatiable student, but also an inexhaustible lover. They get almost no sleep all weekend. This kid has to be going through his fuck-anything-that-moves college phase or something, and he's _so_ responsive. They move immediately from researching a possible vampire infestation in Gwangju to sixty-nining on the little motel desk, where Kyungsoo most definitely manages to deepthroat Jongin's five-star dick, to the kid’s tongue convincing Kyungsoo's very sore hole that all it needs is a lot of lube and a gentler round of getting fucked to within an inch of his life. Or maybe two rounds.

On the third day, Jongin's no more reluctant to be bent over in the shower, no less enthusiastically wailing around Kyungsoo's cock, but afterward, he alternates between looking like someone ran over his dog and actually being a hopeful little puppy himself. But he doesn't bring up the elephant, and Kyungsoo sure isn't gonna do it.

They wake up together the fourth morning. It's awkward, but this has already been running way longer than it should have. He was supposed to have cleared out that coven already and Kyungsoo hadn't even checked Jagi out of storage yet. Jongin is moody as he washes his face and fumbles around in the dark for his glasses, silently patting his hair down and gathering his things to bring to his car.

He should offer the kid some breakfast or something. Or maybe take a picture. Jongin is looking super cute even when he's skipping out on his morning yoga and grimacing as he walks in and out of their room.

But then they're at the front desk and handing over the keycards, and the ride from the motel to the storage building lasts only minutes even in the heavy silence. Kyungsoo's wiping his palms over his jeans and pursing his lips, but he can't think of much to say. There's no partnering up here. He works alone. And the kid needs to learn how to get by on his own.

“Here,” he says, handing Jongin the Beretta by the grip. “I'll grab you the extra clips and the cleaning kit for it too.”

“I can try to find one,” Jongin says softly, brushing his hair out of his glasses, reluctant to take it.

“Found you one,” Kyungsoo says, feeling guilty. “I've got a couple rounds of silver bullets too. Those are hand loaded. Try to ration them. I'll give you the numbers of some people I know who might be able to get you more too.”

He can see Jongin staring at him but refused to look back up. The boy eventually takes the gun with a quiet “thank you, Kyungsoo.”

“So...which way you headed?” Kyungsoo asks.

“I...um…” Jongin licks over his lower lip nervously. “Do you want some help in Gwangju?”

Man, that's tempting. But Jongin is shit with weapons, and he doesn't need spells. And there needs to be a line drawn. “Nah, I'm good.”

“Oh,” Jongin says, trying to mask his disappointment. “Um. I'm gonna...head to Busan then I think. There's some odd activity in the train station.”

Kyungsoo fights the very strong urge to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Sounds good,” he says. “Uh. Good luck.”

“Thanks… You too. Take care of yourself, Kyungsoo.”

—

“Hey stranger,” says a smooth voice, and Kyungsoo turns around to see Jongin flashing a pearly white smile at him. He returns it with one of his own. It's been a couple of months since their romp at the motel...motels.

“Hey you back,” Kyungsoo replies, looking him over. Kid looks good. _Great._ Hot as usual. “Going incognito?” he asks, flicking a finger toward Jongin's eyes and the lack of glasses.

“Contacts,” Jongin says with a smirk, tongue darting out to drag slowly over his bottom lip. “What you up to?”

Damn, a couple months on his own has been good to the kid. _Smooth_. “You here for the melted skin cases too?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin’s hands come up and rest on Kyungsoo's waist as he leans in. “Yeah, but I'd rather investigate something else right now.”

This is nice. He didn't think the kid would be over the whole crush thing by now. Good for him. “Sounds good to me,” Kyungsoo purrs back.

Kyungsoo has Jongin's dick out and half hard by the time they fall into his car. He's working it to full hardness as Jongin focuses on finding them a motel. They almost don't bother with getting out, but there's too much daylight left and the town is too populated to chance just fucking in the backseat. Jongin manages to somehow conceal his dick back into his tight jeans as they go into the lobby. He boldly grinds it into Kyungsoo's ass as they wait for the desk attendant's credit card machine to process, Kyungsoo staring blankly over at the security tv to distract himself.

 

He tries not to drag his feet as they head to their room. Jongin's kneading into his ass cheeks, and his body is responding even as his mind races. Kyungsoo sidesteps at their door and pushes Jongin inside first.

“I want to fuck you,” Jongin announces, pulling his shirt off before the door even shuts. He's gotten quite a new number of scars, it seems. They make him look dangerous. He walks toward Kyungsoo to grope at his ass again, but stops short at the 1911 pointed at his bare chest.

“Silver,” Kyungsoo says simply.

“Kyungsoo, what are you doing?” he asks.

“Where's the kid?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Look, if you don't want to fuck, that's fine, but I mean,” Jongin says, holding his hands up. Kyungsoo's not fooled.

“Jig is up,” Kyungsoo says. “I saw you on the CCTV. Where's the kid? I'm not asking again.”

Jongin stares at him, assessing his options. Finally, it's like a switch flips and he shrugs easily, smirking at Kyungsoo. “You gotta let me go.”

“You don't call the shots here when I'm literally holding them all.”

The smirk deepens as Jongin steps back to sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at his chest and running a hand over one of the fresher scars on his side. It looked vicious. “You'd approve of what I was doing,” he says.

“You're trying to earn one in the kneecap is what you're doing,” Kyungsoo says.

“He's pathetic,” the shapeshifter says, abandoning pretense now. “He's like in love with you.”

“Not your problem,” Kyungsoo growls. He can reach the silver knife tucked into his boot. It can be done quietly.

“Worshipping the mighty Do Kyungsoo, willing to let you do anything to him if only you'd let him trail along like a little fanboy,” the shapeshifter continues. “He cried like a baby for days after your little fuckfest.”

Kyungsoo swallows and steps forward menacingly, cocking the gun back. “ _Now,_ ” he demands.

“I'm just saying, I'd be willing to try being a hunter,” the shapeshifter purrs sweetly, gesturing over his bare skin. “I'd be way better than him, I can promise you that.”

“You—”

“He actually liked eating your ass out,” the shapeshifter adds. “Like how sad is that? That's some next-level hero-worshipping.”

Kyungsoo's hand tightens on the grip. “Just because you have his memories doesn't mean you can speak for him. Now you can die painfully or you can just die.”

“Or you can let me go,” the shapeshifter suggests.

“You're not doing a very good job of motivating me to,” Kyungsoo snarls.

The shapeshifter lets out a long, world-weary sigh as he stretches out across the mattress. “Well, I don’t feel like dying. And if you kill me, then he’s definitely going to die before you ever find him. So.”

“That’s a pretty big bluff,” Kyungsoo says. “But your kind are all the same. You guys should’ve just stayed in America. You’re currently wearing the body of a kid who isn’t a resident of this town, so you can’t be living in his place. You’ve killed other people in town already, and leaving your molted skin all over the damn streets, so you’ve got people in a panic. That really limits your options here.”

“Oh, blah blah,” the shapeshifter says, rolling over onto his side. “We could keep him alive. Hell, I’ll even let him go. And I can hunt monsters. I’m stronger, faster, _better_. We can seal the deal…” He lifts his hips and starts unzipping his jeans. “I’m just saying, there’d be no strings attached here...and I know how much you appreciated this last time…”

“If your pants come off, I’m shooting your dick off with it.”

“Too tempting, huh?” the shapeshifter winks at him, fingers sliding off his jeans and kneading into the covers like a cat.

“Last chance: where is Jongin?” Kyungsoo demands.

“I ain’t dying.”

“Whatever,” Kyungsoo says, frustrated and stepping away but still keeping the gun on him. “Take me to him, and I’ll let you go.”

The shapeshifter raises an eyebrow at him.

“I want the kid,” Kyungsoo says impatiently. “Now.”

—

“So can I borrow some money?” fake-Jongin asks as he pushes through the vegetation.

“What,” Kyungsoo says in disbelief.

“Hey, I gotta eat,” the shapeshifter answers.

They reach a clearing, and Kyungsoo finally can release some tension in fear that he’s walking into a trap. He might well still be walking into a trap, but at least he has proof of life now.

“Let him go,” he says.

“Can’t get to him,” fake-Jongin says, sneering at the body in the cage. “He fucking drew a ward. You know how hard it is to keep a body alive that you can’t even reach? I gotta throw food at him like he’s an animal at a zoo.”

Shit, poor kid. “Jongin!” Kyungsoo cries out. The body stirs and lifts its head at the sound. Recognition flashes in the real Jongin’s eyes and...panic immediately afterward. Jongin straightens up in the cage, looking dirty and exhausted. “You okay?”

Jongin doesn’t answer, nodding and turning his gaze to the floor of the cage instead.

“So here’s your boy. Am I free to go yet? I’m gonna try to catch happy hour. Always someone looking to get some,” the shapeshifter says.

“Lose his body,” Kyungsoo orders.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” the shapeshifter snaps. “This is a money-maker right here. Look at these cheekbones. Look at this jawline.”

“I don’t like repeating myself,” Kyungsoo warns. He’s ready. Fake-Jongin dives for him, teeth bared, aiming for his throat, but Kyungsoo has his silver blade in his left hand and promptly buries it in the shapeshifter’s gut, slicing and scrambling through the soft organs viciously as the creature howls in pain and drops to the ground. The bullets echo loudly and there’s a creepy silence that follows, all the wildlife pausing as the fake-Jongin’s eyes stare up blankly at the sky. He holsters his gun and walks toward the cage.

It must have only been a couple of days. A week at most. Jongin looks pretty bad, but he’s not malnourished. He still has his strength. Kyungsoo looks at the ward approvingly. That’s way better than one he could’ve pulled together on short notice, much less in a cage with limited materials. “Break the ward and get back. I’ll break the lock.”

Jongin smudges one of the concentric circles, still looking at the ground and hugging his arms back around himself after. He scoots back and leans into the bars of the far wall as Kyungsoo switches to regular bullets and looks for a big enough rock to crack the lock. It’d be dumb and reckless to shoot it. The bullets could ricochet and hit Jongin...or himself. The lock breaks after the second strike, and the door swings free. Jongin hesitates for a few seconds before crawling out, unsteadily getting to his feet.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo,” he says quietly, arms wrapped around his waist, shoulders sagging.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jongin says, still refusing to look at him.

“Did he hurt you?”

A slight head shake. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

They walk to the body and Kyungsoo pats it down. He finds Jongin’s car keys and not much else, handing it back to the younger who carefully takes it.

“What do we do about his body?” Jongin asks softly, holding the keys between both of his hands.

“Leave it, probably,” Kyungsoo says, trying fruitlessly to catch his eye. “Probably a good thing. If anybody reported you for any past cases, they might think you’re a serial killer or something. Shapeshifters replicate you exactly: memories, physical appearance, everything all the way down to the DNA.”

“Yeah,” Jongin says shakily.

“Can you walk?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin answers by walking ahead, leading them back out of the forest. It’s an awkward return trip, with Kyungsoo attempting to engage him in any sort of conversation and seek reassurance that the kid hasn’t lost his marbles and getting none. They finally reach the back of the motel parking lot, and he takes over, leading the way to Jongin’s car and then turning to him expectantly to unlock it.

“You have a first aid kit?” Kyungsoo asks, popping the trunk.

“I’m okay, Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, stepping forward to pull one of the bags out. “I can deal with it myself… Thank you for rescuing me.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to answer, but Jongin adds an almost annoyed:

“Again.”

“No problem,” Kyungsoo says. “But let me finish the job at least. I saw his body. Some of those wounds still look pretty fresh, and I’m sure he didn’t leave you unharmed.”

Jongin’s body tenses like a bow and he finally glances over at Kyungsoo, looking horrified. “Did…did you…”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in understanding and he shakes his head. “Uhh... _almost_ ,” he confesses, rubbing his lips together and looking away briefly in embarrassment. “I really thought he was you until I saw his eyes in the security camera at the...motel…”

Jongin nods and slides a scrap of fabric over toward Kyungsoo before slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I don’t know if you want this back, but it’s clean,” he mutters, waiting for Kyungsoo to take it and then closing the trunk.

A t-shirt. His t-shirt. Memories finally come back and Kyungsoo recognizes them as the ones he used to clean up after...their romp in the backseat of Jongin’s car. Well, now he feels like a certified douchebag. “Where are you going?” he asks, watching Jongin turn on his heels and start to walk away.

“I…” Jongin says, fidgeting and shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. “I was gonna get a room and shower. Eat.”

“I already have a room here actually…” Kyungsoo says, feeling stupidly awkward after once he remembers the reason _why_ he has a room here in the first place. “You’re welcome to stay.”

Jongin stares at him for a few seconds. “...I’m okay,” he says yet again. “I think I’ll just head out, actually.”

“What’s wrong?” Kyungsoo asks, cringing at his word choice. Like the kid hasn’t been held captive by a monster for the past however many days. But he follows Jongin as the other goes back and tosses his bag into the passenger seat, climbing into the driver’s seat before he finally turns to look at Kyungsoo.

“Sorry,” Jongin says. “I’m grateful… I really am. Thank you.” He swallows and turns his head to the side, but Kyungsoo sees the tear fall anyway. He also notices the new scar under Jongin’s jaw from this close. Poor kid is almost as scarred up now as he is. The hunter’s gauntlet isn’t a gentle one. Jongin wipes the tear away, flushing with embarrassment. “He just...gave me a lot of perspective, and I would like to keep some of my dignity,” he finishes.

“He tricked you, it’s not your fault you got caught,” Kyungsoo says. “Shapeshifters are really strong and super fast—”

“I meant with you,” Jongin says, putting a hand on the door handle now and tightening his jaw.

“Look, kid, I don’t think less of you or anything,” Kyungsoo says, stepping back reluctantly. The door shuts, and he watches Jongin chew on his lip for a moment. “Just come to the room. Go wash up. I’ll get you some food.”

The boy scrubs at his eyes again, grimacing afterward. “No, thank you,” he says. “And thank you for saving me again. But I’m just gonna go.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Kyungsoo standing there confused and feeling shitty.

—

Tracking monsters are easy. You just watch the news for people dying in mysterious ways, weird occult occurrences, strange weather patterns...it’s not hard. You’re never looking for anything specific anyway, just _shit that’s out of the norm_. Looking for people, for a specific person...that’s a pain in the ass.

He bumps into quite a few other hunters, but eventually he tracks Jongin down to Namyangju. From there, he just has to find local monster cases and cross his fingers that their research takes them to the same places.  There’s some weird, possibly foreign, type of monster activity in the northern part of town, and he hits bingo as he heads toward the library, catching sight of the familiar mop of hair and glasses glaring from the sun reflecting off of it.

“Hey you,” Kyungsoo says, stepping briskly toward him.

Jongin startles, looking up from one of the books he’s carrying to find the source of the voice. He purses his lips nervously before shutting the top book. “Hi Kyungsoo.”

“How you doing?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin hugs the books tighter. “I think someone opened up a kimon around here,” he says in place of an answer.

Kyungsoo makes a hissing sound. “Demon gates. Ugh,” he says, scrunching his mouth up in disgust. “That’s gonna be a bitch.”

Jongin nods and stays silent.

“I think—” Kyungsoo starts.

“Well, good luck—” Jongin says at the same time.

“I think I might need your help,” Kyungsoo rushes out. “There’s a lot of spellwork required to close a demon gate, and you’re really good at it.” He can see the hesitation only growing in Jongin’s face. “We can work together. I can deal with taking down anything that comes out of the gate, and you can work on shutting it. Deal?”

Clearly, Jongin doesn’t want to deal, looking pinched, like he ate something disagreeably sour. But Kyungsoo can see the moment reluctant acceptance settles in his mind and fist pumps internally once Jongin nods.

“Cool. Yeah, so follow me back. We can discuss a game plan.”

He hears a small sigh behind him. “Okay,” comes the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updates are going to be kind of weird. I've been working on 3 chapters from 3 different stories at once, so either TIIFP or WWF is gonna be updated next, but then this one will get its second chapter update soon too.


	10. Chapter 10

There’s something odd about Jongin’s gait as he leads Kyungsoo back to his motel room. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but it’s not exactly a limp, and he can tell the kid is trying to hide it. Kyungsoo flashes back to the last time they saw each other, with Jongin running away with his tail tucked between his legs like a kicked puppy, and feels the ball of guilt in his stomach growing. Guilt is bad. Emotions in general are bad. He wasted weeks to track Jongin down when he should’ve been focusing on just work. He skipped out on some cases because they weren’t in the right direction of news of Jongin.

...It’s been a very conflicting couple of weeks.

Jongin drops the pile of books onto the motel desk and grimaces, pressing a hand into his side as he straightens his back.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks, looking him over with concern again.

“Yeah,” Jongin brushes him off as he peels the top page off of a set of sticky notes and doodles something out on it before walking back to the door and pressing the paper right above the handle. He traces his finger over the ink, and it flashes a brilliant crimson before settling back to regular black.

“What was that?”

“The warding spell you taught me,” Jongin answers.

“ _ I _ didn’t teach you that,” Kyungsoo says.

Jongin finally looks up at him and gestures back at the door. “It’s the same spell framework,” he explains, other hand still putting pressure on his side. “I just modified it so it’s smaller and less time-consuming now. It also doesn’t damage the wood on the doors.”

“Huh.” That’s kind of genius.

Jongin’s eyes widen as Kyungsoo steps toward him, but says nothing. He only purses his lips when Kyungsoo takes out a silver blade and rests it against Jongin’s wrist, right above a new scab. “It’s me,” he says quietly, waiting for Kyungsoo to nod before walking back to pull the chair out so it was opposite of the little couch.

Yeah, no shapeshifter would quite capture that lost little boy expression, Kyungsoo thinks to himself as he pockets the knife, taking a seat on the couch and looking over Jongin again. “What’s wrong with your side?” he asks.

“Cracked ribs,” Jongin says simply, pulling papers and the book from the top of the stack over. He says it like it’s a fact of life now, like ‘yeah, rained yesterday, cracked some ribs.’ His hand slides off his side and Kyungsoo catches the little pained wince as Jongin tries to hide his self-consciousness in the book.

“...What happened?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin looks up at him briefly before going back to turning the pages again. “Um. A ghost. She threw me onto some train tracks.”

“Ouch,” Kyungsoo says. He only gets a nod in response as Jongin chews on his lower lip, attention back on the book again. “...She get your leg too?”

“Huh?” Jongin asks, head jerking to the side to knock his hair off his glasses.

Kyungsoo points at his legs. “You’re walking funny.”

“Oh…” Jongin says, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip nervously. “No. A...a samjokgu. I...am dealing with it.”

“Let me see,” Kyungsoo demands.

“What?”

He points at Jongin’s legs again. “How bad is it? Let me see it.”

Jongin rubs at his right knee over his pants. “It’s fine. I’m working on it.”

“How do you ‘work on’ an poisonous bite?” Kyungsoo asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “Let me see it.”

Impressively, Jongin holds his ground for another thirty seconds or so before looking down with a sigh and pulling his pant leg up carefully. Kyungsoo gasps at the sight: the band of skin around Jongin’s knee had gone pitch black. But more, it was surrounded by an odd, translucent netting of some sort. The longer Kyungsoo stared at it, the more he could make out some letters flickering over the mesh of light. “What the fuck…” Kyungsoo hisses under his breath.

“Venomous,” Jongin corrects quietly. “The spell is designed to...keep it from spreading, so I can find an antidote later.”

“Jongin, that looks so painful.” No answer. Of course it’s painful. “How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin shrugs a shoulder as he pulls his pant leg back down. “A couple of weeks ago.”

“A couple of  _ weeks _ ?” Kyungsoo asks. Holy shit, that is insane.

Jongin clears his throat and glances up at Kyungsoo before grabbing the book again. “So some of the lore I found suggests that a kimon can only be opened at a three-way intersection,” he says, pointing at a diagram of a dark gate on the page. “I cross-referenced—”

“Are you upset with me?” Kyungsoo interrupts.

Wide eyes look back at him in surprise. “No,” Jongin says quickly. “Of course not.”

“Why are you being like this?” he asks.

Jongin pauses for a moment, eyes darting around Kyungsoo’s head a bit. “...What am I doing?” he asks.

Kyungsoo lets out a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry...about the whole...uh...ditching-you thing. And...not being all that helpful either. You have to understand—”

“I do,” Jongin says, nodding for emphasis. There’s the kicked puppy look again. “I understand. It’s okay. I’m not upset.” He clears his throat and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “So...um, anyway, I cross-referenced the maps—”

“Then why are you being like this? Why are you so...gives-no-fucks?” Kyungsoo asks. This isn’t how he had hoped to find Jongin at all. True, it’s nominally better than finding him in a cage being taunted by a monster who could use his memories against him, but...this isn’t that much of an improvement.

“I...you wanted me to help,” Jongin says, looking awkwardly down at the pages and fiddling with a pencil. “So I’m just...sharing what I know.”

“You need to get your leg fixed before it rots off,” Kyungsoo snaps and then gestures toward Jongin’s torso. “You need to get some pain meds or something for your ribs. You’re falling apart, and you don’t seem to care.”

Wow, so it was possible to look even  _ more _ like a kicked puppy without Jongin spontaneously sprouting fur and floppy ears. Dammit. Kyungsoo opens his mouth to say something else, but Jongin’s brows knit together and he speaks softly, “You’re the same way.”

“...What?”

Jongin’s worrying the inside of his cheek when he looks up again. “You’re the same way, Kyungsoo,” he repeats, emboldened this time. “I think we all are. It’s just...part of the job.”

“Just part of the job,” Kyungsoo echoes, giving him a look of disbelief.

Jongin’s unphased. “You were right,” he says, thumbing through the book again. “I just didn’t know it back then. But it makes me a better hunter now, and...it’s just easier.”

“Kid…” Kyungsoo says, his expression softening from stern to worried. He leans forward and shuts the book with a dull slam, watching Jongin’s fingers hover in the air above it in surprise. “You’re not supposed to be like this.”

Finally, Jongin meets his eyes again. He’s aged since Kyungsoo really got a good look at him. Not so much that he looks older, but rather...hardened. Worn down. Kyungsoo’s conscience adds ‘abandoned’ to the list. Jongin looks back down at the closed book. “It’s fine if you don’t want to work together anymore,” he says. “But if you’re taking over this case, then I can make some copies of—”

The books hit the opposite wall and land on the old carpet with a loud crack and a thud. Kyungsoo’s blood is boiling when Jongin finally looks at him again. “We’re fixing your leg and we’re fixing your ribs, and  _ then _ you can talk about the fucking case. Got it?”

Jongin’s mouth flaps for a few seconds. “I-I’m handling it,” he insists stubbornly.

“Metaphorical duct tape and superglue are just stopgaps,” Kyungsoo snaps again. “You want to be a better hunter, start with taking care of yourself.” Yes, he’s aware of the hypocrisy of that statement, but it’s way easier to care about someone else’s physical well-being than one’s own. “The gate can wait until the weekend.”

Jongin actually looks raring for an argument, but he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he hobbles over to the fallen book and scoops it up, limping back to the desk and setting it down carefully before rearranging the papers that got knocked out of place. “You don’t have to do this,” he tells the floor. “You’re not responsible for me or anything.”

Well, yeah, Kyungsoo would've agreed with him on that several months back. In fact, Kyungsoo probably told him that several months back, but that was before he found Jongin in a cage looking like a broken-spirited animal. This kid is supposed to be teaching yoga to thirsty, sexually confused, suburban dads. Instead he's limping around with broken bones and a magical tourniquet to keep mythical dog venom from rotting his leg off. He’s too pretty for this line of work.

“Let’s work on that leg first. If your ribs are just cracked, then all we can do is pain management. You can do the spell part while I hunt down the supplies,” Kyungsoo says.

Jongin looks at him with a confused expression, but doesn’t challenge it. He waits patiently as Kyungsoo swipes through his phone until he finds the photo of the spell he saved a while back. At least when he sees a new challenge, his eyes still light up, scanning over the complexities of the spell. That’s a good sign. “Will this work?” Jongin asks.

“Worked for me last time,” Kyungsoo says.

“You’ve been bitten by a samjokgu too?” Jongin asks.

“Yeah,”  Kyungsoo answers, lifting his shirt up halfway and pushing his jeans down to expose his hip. There was a faint, jaggedy old scar in a half-moon shape along the bone. “Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees, glancing over the scar before looking away. Excuse him, Kyungsoo’s abs are finally showing again, and he’s quite proud, thank you.

“Mine only lasted like….basically as long as it took for my brother to get the spell done, so like....an hour,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Several weeks. Goddamn.”

“I couldn’t find a spell, and then I kept finding new cases,” Jongin says.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been there and done that with that sorry excuse,” Kyungsoo says. “Let’s get you patched up.”


	11. Chapter 11

So Jongin’s a motherfucking  _ badass _ with wards. Who knew? He apparently picked up all kinds of tricks, and then invented and reinterpreted new spells and hexes and enchantments. It’s kind of mesmerizing just to watch. He’s better with a stick of plain white chalk than Kyungsoo is with his 1911, and Kyungsoo is like fucking Deadshot with his 1911. He steps back some more as Jongin draws yet another ring outlining what must already be a dozen rings, all perfectly round, in the middle of the dark, empty road. It is barely a meter wide, and yet every circle within it is perfectly, evenly spaced, and equally divided by some markings and lines that Kyungsoo can't even start to understand. “How did you learn all of this again?” he asks.

“Found a lot of stuff online,” Jongin mumbles, distracted as he carefully fills the four inner rings with a symbol, legs spread to either side of the whole circle, not touching the chalk. “There are books too. Junmyeon helped me get a couple.”

He’d been in contact with Junmyeon and that asshole didn’t bother mentioning that to Kyungsoo during the  _ months _ that he’d spent tracking Jongin down? Thanks a lot, best friend. Thanks a-fucking-lot. “So did you learn this one from somewhere or did you make it up yourself?” Kyungsoo asks. “Is it safe?”

Jongin finally looks up at him, glasses askew from hunching down for so long. There’s sweat beading on his nose. “Yeah,” he says curtly, pushing the glasses up and swiping at his face with a sleeve. He waddles backward to observe his work. Satisfied, he throws the chalk over to the side and rifles through his bag, pulling out a small pocket knife.

“What’s that for?” Kyungsoo asks. He’s supposed to be the muscle for this.

“The circle has to be fed,” Jongin answers. He’s not one for words tonight, it seems.

“So you’re sure it’s here? We’re doing this now?” Kyungsoo says. He’s doubtful. Not of Jongin’s competency. That circle looks legit as fuck even if he has no clue what it does. But this isn’t where he’d start looking, and Jongin’s putting a lot of work in already without any confirmation that this is even the right place.

“In 1951, the police massacred over four hundred and sixty people in Namyangju, including children,” Jongin explains as he flicks the blade out and cuts a thin line on the top of his forearm. It’s just enough to bleed, and he gathers and spreads it between his palms, coating each finger thoroughly. “Many of them were killed right along this area, and this is the only three-way intersection in the northeastern part of town. With all the vengeful spirits to power it, it’d make sense to open a kimon here.”

Well, that’s useful to know. Kyungsoo can’t think of anything to contribute or counter. “...Nerd,” he says with a smile.

Jongin looks back at him, momentarily confused before he decides Kyungsoo didn’t mean it in a negative way and goes back to his task at hand. Which meant crouching down and then splaying his hands out over the large symbol in the center of the smallest ring.

At first contact, the entire pattern flashes to life, from the inside spreading outward, until all of it glows. “Holy what the actual fuck,” Kyungsoo says under his breath, staring as Jongin closes his eyes and chants, causing the red glow to start pulsing. The air is charged, static causing Kyungsoo's hair to rise and his skin to tingle. He pulls his gun out and double checks the clip before chambering the first round, looking around in anticipation before reholstering it. Guns are the last resort. Right now, they’re relying on several kilos of salt dumped over the street to keep any stray spirits contained while Jongin closes and destroys the gate and Kyungsoo takes out whatever demons emerge.

A hole yawns open in the ground, several meters away from Jongin. Kyungsoo steps toward it, torch in hand. The wood came from the pillar gate of an old Buddhist temple. They couldn’t get to a Shinto shrine around here, so Buddhist it is. Here’s to hoping it’s the right one. He swings down on the gate as a clawed hand emerges, grey and shiny and too large to belong to a human. It catches fire like tinder and a shriek can be heard from beyond the gate as the hand retracts. Huh. That’s surprisingly easy.

“ _ Oomf _ ,” Kyungsoo grunts as he’s thrown back, the wind knocked out of him as he lands on asphalt. The torch is knocked out of his hand, flame extinguished, and then his airway is blocked, throat crushing down slowly. He manages to wrench his eyes open to see a translucent figure, eyes red and raging, above him, choking the life out of him. The edges of his vision are going black, heart beating loudly in his ears. Kyungsoo manages to gather a fistful of salt from the ground and throws it weakly at his attacker. Air returns in a whoosh, burning his lungs as the figure vanishes.

Back on his feet, powered by adrenaline, Kyungsoo scrambles for the torch, throwing another handful of salt at the next vengeful spirit to swoop toward him. He swivels quickly, spreading the salt from behind him in a rough arc, putting himself in a small circle as he squats, stinging palm bleeding. There is still plenty of grease on the torch. He sandwiches it between his legs and digs out the lighter from his pocket, rekindling the wood and then awkwardly shuffling to his feet. They’re being surrounded. He can’t even see where Jongin is. But the spirits are being contained behind the salt at least. Kyungsoo steps backward, outside of the salt perimeter, to where they cannot follow. From this vantage point, he can at least make out where the gate is. Two demons, from what he can tell. Oni, Japanese demons, like extras straight out of Lord of the Rings, but with a dozen eyes, giant horns, claws the size of steak knives, and armed with iron clubs. Without proper tools, they’re nearly impossible to take down. The last time he fought one, it was by itself, and he still got his ass whooped before it finally gave up. A third is emerging from the gate, much larger than its buddies. Oh shit.

It howls suddenly, anguished shriek piercing the night air as the gate abruptly shrinks to a pinhole size before vanishing, shearing its bottom half with it as the monster topples to the side. Jongin’s spell must have come through. Kyungsoo sees an opening. The ghosts were crowding around Jongin’s location. He takes his chance, feet slapping on pavement as he rushes the nearest demon, swinging the now fully-lit torch wildly.  The first one tries to attack him, but this time he’s got a deathgrip on the torch and it merely jostles him a bit before the monster is fully engulfed. The second one, now with the fear of God (or holy fire, at least) in him, brings his arms up defensively and is taken down much easier. Kyungsoo advances on the last one, the half-a-demon. It glares at him, hatred in its eyes, spitting curses as it backs up, swinging its club recklessly. Black ichor trails it, the thick fluid bubbling as it leaves its body. Kyungsoo touches the torch to the liquid, watching the fire lick upward until it covers the creature.

He’s knocked on his ass again as a shockwave hits. The fucking  _ ground _ shakes. The second demon, charred and dying, lands on him, clawing weakly into his shirt. “ _ Seungsoo _ ,” it rasps out as it drags red lines into Kyungsoo’s chest, shredding his shirt with ease. It releases a rattling, gurgling sound as he manages to push it away, backing up slowly as he takes in his surroundings. Die, you fucker.

The street is empty. He gets to his feet with some difficulty and looks around. The dead demons, the salt, and then a body slumped in a chalk circle. Jongin. “Hey!” he shouts, hurrying over. He had gotten swarmed by the horde of ghosts. There are new wounds all over him, and a gnarly new bruise on his right cheek as Kyungsoo rolls him onto his back. The kid is breathing. “Hey,” he says again, slapping Jongin lightly.

Jongin swallows, shaking his head groggily before his eyes finally open, slowly focusing on Kyungsoo. “Oh,” he says softly, rolling to his feet and surveying the area. “It’s over?”

“Yeah, did you have a good nap?” Kyungsoo asks.

“I- they hit m-” Jongin mumbles before realizing it was a joke. He purses his lips and toes the chalk circle, breaking the outer line. The whole ring dulls, its power now drained out. He is still taking shallow breaths. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo answers. Cut up and bruised, but nothing new and interesting. “You?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says tiredly.

“I think we deserve some food after all this. You like steak?” Kyungsoo offers.

Jongin stops examining the damage to Kyungsoo’s shirt to glance back up at his face. He stalls, staring blankly as his mouth flaps. “Uhh, I’ll just grab something on my way out of town. I think I’m...just gonna...head up to Pocheon. There’s a haunting there,” he says and starts limping toward his bag.

“You’re hurt,” Kyungsoo observes.

“I’m okay,” Jongin insists.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and limps after him, grabbing Jongin’s bag before the kid can reach it. “Look,” he spits out, “if you hate me, that’s fine, but you’re going to keel over one day and  _ soon _ if you don’t take care of yourself. At least go get some food and rest. You  _ just  _ recovered from being  _ poisoned _ for  _ weeks _ , you’ve still got broken ribs, along with whatever fresh hell we just went through.”

“No,” Jongin says, eyes wide. “No, I don’t hate you.” More mouth fluttering and he looks around awkwardly before he adds weakly, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just-...I’m just trying to...get things done.”

“Uh huh,” Kyungsoo says, doubt heavy in his voice as he hands the bag over. “If it makes you more comfortable, I’ll bounce, but you  _ need _ to go back to the hotel, patch up, and get some rest.”

Jongin purses his lips again and shakes his head, “No, you don’t have to leave. Please.”

 

Save for Jongin asking yet again if Kyungsoo was okay after he started wheezing, the ride back was done in silence. He asks if Jongin needs any help getting bandaged up, but is denied, so Kyungsoo goes to his own motel room and steps into the small shower, hissing as the water hits his new cuts and bruises. He’s fine. A little sandpapered from hitting the ground and being scraped across the asphalt like a matchstick head, but all the wounds are superficial. The demon had said his brother’s name as it died. It probably meant nothing. Or maybe it confused him for his brother. Or maybe it’s just a fucking demon, and they like fucking with people, even in their dying breath.

That’s too much to think about. He rubs one out and washes off. The room smells faintly of stale cigarettes, and Kyungsoo lies down on the stiff mattress, skin still damp from his half-assed job of toweling dry.

He catches himself staring at the tv after several minutes pass, clueless as to what he’s even watching before Kyungsoo forces himself to his feet and pulls on a shirt and boxers. He walks down the hall toward Jongin’s room and bangs on the door.

Kyungsoo’s greeted by a suspicious look and a bare shoulder before Jongin recognizes him and the door shuts for him to pull the chain off and reopen halfway. “Hi,” Jongin says hesitantly, phrasing the greeting as a question.

“Just making sure you’re okay,” Kyungsoo explains, only  _ subtly _ peeking down to see Jongin clad in nothing but a towel. His gaze locks on Jongin’s chest, however, at the sight of new ink in addition to his anti-possession tattoo. Underneath the new symbols are more bruises and wounds. They distract from the sexiness of the intricate designs. A lot. He barely catches Jongin’s “I’m fine” before pushing his way into the room. “What the hell is all of that then?” he asks.

Jongin wraps his arms around himself self-consciously, looking down at his own chest. “More protection spells,” he mumbles, knowing that’s not what Kyungsoo was really asking and side-stepping him to scoot into the room and slide a shirt on. He flinches as Kyungsoo follows and lifts a corner of the shirt up, revealing the giant purple blotch on his side and looking back at him with an arched brow. “Y-you know about that one,” he adds.

“Where you were thrown on the train tracks?” Kyungsoo asks before letting it fall again. What happened to his pretty yoga instructor?  “How’d it get this bad?”

“It’s not bad,” Jongin argues, distancing them as he holds onto his towel now. “A lot of them are from today. It’s just bruises.” He squirms under Kyungsoo’s stare and mumbles something else before disappearing into the bathroom, coming back fully clothed and nervously clenching and unclenching his hands.

“I can bandage you up,” Kyungsoo offers.

“No,” Jongin says quickly. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“You need meds? Supplies? I can go out and grab stuff. You should rest.”

“No, I’m okay. I have everything, I think.”

Kyungsoo heaves a sigh, repressing another eyeroll and gives him a look. “Okay...so...you heading to Pocheon in the morning?” he asks. He can hear the annoyance in his voice, but he’s getting tired and cranky and Jongin’s being difficult.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m gonna put my bike into storage. Come wake me up in the morning.”

Jongin blinks, thrown off and momentarily confused. “What?” he eventually asks.

“You’re in no condition to deal with malevolent ghosts, much less drive.”

“It’s just like a two hour drive,” Jongin says softly.

“Yeah, you can catch up on some more rest in that time,” Kyungsoo retorts, heading toward the door.

“Why are you doing this?” Jongin asks to his back. “You said you work alone.”

Kyungsoo stops with his hand on the doorframe, turning back to look over Jongin’s face, purpling cheek on one side, several cuts on the other. He’s still a beautiful kid, eyes still soft and earnest. “I’m just being practical. Is that a problem?” he challenges.

Jongin’s face says there are most definitely problems, but after a few long seconds, he shakes his head and Kyungsoo steps out to go back to his room. He’s just gonna help the kid out for a few days. Just long enough to make sure he’ll be okay.

—

_ Two months later… _

“Shit,” Kyungsoo groans, hissing as Jongin presses fresh gauze onto the wound, dropping the last of the thorns into a dish.  _ Oww _ . He’s come close to fainting as Jongin extracted the thorns, but now it’s just soreness, and that’s more annoying than painful.

“Almost done,” Jongin assures him, eyes focused on the cut. He got throttled pretty hard by the weird plant monster earlier too, but he insisted that he help Kyungsoo first. 

He’s eternally grateful. The thorns were barbed and if not taken out in time, will start releasing a paralytic into your bloodstream. “Thanks,” Kyungsoo says, watching as Jongin focuses on applying bandages.

“That’s what friends are for,” Jongin answers. He freezes mid-bandaging Kyungsoo’s bicep and turns to Kyungsoo’s face with an almost embarrassed look. “Er...or I guess...colleagues, rather,” he corrects, swallowing and dropping his gaze back to his hands, cheeks burning as his face falls. “I was just helping out.”

Maybe Kyungsoo should say something. But hell, he doesn’t know if they can be considered  _ friends _ . They’ve just been hunting together. They travel together, work cases together, eat together, and pool resources. If they get injured, they patch themselves up. The first night they roomed together, Jongin nervously explained that he didn’t want to have sex, and that was that. No bonding, no talking about anything outside of work. Really, this fits him. The dry spell has been really sucking though, having a roommate meant he couldn’t really bring someone back to the motel, but...that’s why they invented shower wanks, he supposes. 

They’re not friends though, and it’d be pointless to lie. Jongin excuses himself once he’s finished and turns in for the night. Problem settled.

 

The next town they roll into, there’s talk amongst the locals of something that sounds suspiciously like another demonic possession. It’s easy stuff, and they’ve decided to wait until morning before tracking it down. Jongin hands him the room key before informing him that he’ll be in a different one. “Did they not have doubles?” Kyungsoo asks.

“No, they did,” Jongin says, shrugging as he adjusts his glasses and hair in the hall mirror. “I just um...wanted different rooms tonight.”

“You going somewhere?” Kyungsoo asks. Jongin is smoking hot normally, especially since teaming up meant he suffered significantly less injuries, but he’s dressed to impressed right now. Maybe he’s grown up and had a change of heart on their ‘no-sex’ clause.

“I’m just grabbing a drink,” Jongin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dismissed. He was just brushed off and dismissed. No invitation, no apology. Kyungsoo watches him go, tempted to follow just to see what the fuck is going on.

He finds out as he heads over to Jongin’s room a couple of hours later to see if he has the gun oil. Hand poised in front of the door to knock, Kyungsoo freezes as soft moans waft through the thin motel walls. It’s been a while, but he recognizes Jongin’s voice easily, coupled with whoever else in there, grunting away like a pig to the backdrop of a creaky spring mattress.

Kyungsoo is stewing in his own room later, the 1911 still in pieces around him, still not reassembled. They’re having to pay extra for two rooms because Jongin had to go and get laid. Jongin’s off in another room getting fucked by some stranger, and he’s all alone in his because he wasn’t clued into tonight’s plans. He can’t even do regular maintenance on his weapons. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. He’s been surviving the last two months jacking off in the shower or speed-rounding it to crappy porn clips on his phone whenever Jongin goes out for supplies, and the bastard went and got them separate rooms so  _ he _ could get dicked. 

 

“Fun night?” Kyungsoo asks, not bothering to keep the sourness out of his voice the next morning. Jongin looks mopey and his eyes are all puffy, and that just irritates Kyungsoo further. Now he has to spend all day watching out for Jongin in case he's too tired after all that dicking and makes a mistake and endangers both of them.

“Not really,” Jongin answers distractedly as they walk past the row of houses, eyeing each door with suspicion.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kyungsoo snaps. “You look like you hardly slept.”

“I had trouble sleeping,” Jongin says, averting his eyes.

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo says acidly. “Was he that good?”

Jongin refuses to meet his eyes, but Kyungsoo can see the guilty look in his face as it reddens. Part of him feels bad. They’re not even friends. This is what they talked about just yesterday. But he quashes the feeling quickly.

“Maybe you should just go back to the hotel,” Kyungsoo continues. “You limping around here isn’t going to help us any.”

“I’m not limping,” Jongin says softly. “I-...I had someone over, but they left right af-I can hunt just fine.”

Bickering gets them nowhere, but they go for it anyway. An hour wasted instead of knocking out what should’ve been a simple exorcism. The tension carries the rest of the day, until they finally give up with no leads and head back. They part ways in the parking lot, to Jongin’s surprise, as Kyungsoo storms off to the bar across the street.

It doesn’t take long. There’s not even enough alcohol in his system to feel any kind of buzz when he’s pulling some pretty boy into his room, clothes falling off along the way. The man’s trying to say something sexy, but Kyungsoo doesn’t need that, rolling him onto his knees and lining up behind him. He’s just needing to get some for the night. He’s just needing to break this dry spell so he can get over being envious that Jongin came up with this idea first. That Jongin went to some stranger for shitty, meaningless sex instead of getting damn good, meaningless sex from him.

The guy is a screamer. It’s annoying, but satisfying, wondering if maybe Jongin can hear from here. Unless Jongin found someone else to warm his bed. Or if it was the same guy as last night. Fuck, the kid  _ would _ be the type to fall for someone after a one night stand.

He’s losing his boner thinking through the possibility of Jongin falling in love with some drunk from the bar, and Jagi being a day’s ride away, and how Kyungsoo’s supposed to get his bike without Jongin’s car, or if they drive there, if Jongin can part ways with whoever that faceless dude was without moping and sulking the whole ride, or worse, being on the phone and fawning and cooing until Kyungsoo throws his fucking phone out the window. The guy’s making whining, disappointed sounds under him and trying to turn over, and Kyungsoo’s just not going to have that. Focus.

Pretty boy has a mole on his lower back like Jongin. He’s not as broad and tan and smooth—well, Jongin’s probably not that smooth anymore either. Not that Kyungsoo would know.

He eventually cums and halfasses a handjob before the guy decides to take over, shooting him a nasty look as Kyungsoo gets up to throw the condom away and comes back with tissues and asks the guy to not make a mess. Luckily, and to no one’s surprise, it’s not difficult to get rid of the guy afterward.

Except now he’s alone in the motel room again, sex and stale cigarettes mingling in the warm, damp summer air. It’s been two months since he’s slept in a room by himself, and this is going on two nights now. No soft snoring a few meters away. No quiet apologies when he gets woken up in the middle of the night because Jongin has to go pee. No waking up just before checkout to a hot breakfast waiting for him.

He turns the shower setting to scalding, rinsing any evidence of Pretty Boy down the drain. Physical evidence anyway. He feels gross. Even freshly cleaned, he can’t lie down on the crumpled bed. Kyungsoo rips the sheets off, braving the bare hotel mattress instead and stares at the discolored ceiling. He should feel relieved. Two months is way longer than he’s used to going without. The guy was hot enough.

Sleep eludes him. He can see the glow around the curtain as the sun rises. His stomach burns from lack of sleep, and his head and eyelids are heavy. Kyungsoo knows he could sleep in if he wanted. They’re stuck in town until they take care of this demon anyway. He just can’t get his mind to stop drifting down the hallway.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So...just a reminder, this is based off of Supernatural. It can get violent. I'm not writing a horror story here, but there's gonna be some mention of blood and fighting stuff again. Also, hunters don't just become hunters just because. They're made, because they went through some terrible shit.

When Kyungsoo turned six months old, his mother was advised by the pediatrician that it was a normal age to start sleeping in his own room. Seungsoo told him later that he had somehow fallen out of his crib that first night, and his mother decided that a doctor’s recommendation does not beat gravity. Only one of those was a law, after all. So Kyungsoo slept in his parents’ bed until he turned three, where they were once again advised by his pediatrician that he should sleep in his own room. After some debating, his parents conceded. The next morning, his father found him in his brother’s bed, the two of them cuddled up like peas in a pod. They eventually moved his bed into Seungsoo’s room and converted his into a playroom for the brothers to share.

In his seventh year of school, high off his victory of setting the new record for best time in Mario Kart, Kyungsoo woke up at midnight to his mother hovering over him, her mouth a bloody gash across her face, teeth elongated and sharpened into ice picks, with bits of gristle and meat between them, blood drooling down her chin. Her eyes were pitch black, lacking understanding, as she lunged for Kyungsoo’s throat. The sound of a bat connecting with a skull rung out mere centimeters from his face, and Kyungsoo blinked reflexively, feeling the spatter of hot blood land on him a moment after. His brother yanked him to his feet and they ran. They were in their underwear, and barefoot, and cold, and Kyungsoo already could barely see without his glasses, much less in the dark and fleeing for his life, but they ran as the creature that was once their mother took chase, determined to leave no orphans in its newfound hunger for human flesh. He and Seungsoo slept, huddled and shivering, feet shredded and caked, against a large tree in the woods behind a new neighborhood until daylight.

Living on pity is no life to live. It took less than a year of being bounced around family members’ homes—sometimes sharing a bed if the uncle was wealthy, often times sharing a blanket on the floor if they were not so well off—for them to strike out on their own. Running into Junmyeon and his mother was a miracle, if Kyungsoo were one to believe in miracles. They were equipped and knowledgeable and generous, and most importantly, they understood. They were not there to give pity, but to search for their own revenge. Unfortunately, only Junmyeon got his revenge, and they helped him cremate his mother behind the cabin. For a long time, the cabin meant a home of sorts. Or perhaps “home” is too strong of a word, but...a base. A place to return to lick your wounds. Despite there now being plenty of space to spread out, the boys roomed together, packed tightly like refugees, survivors of some terrible nightmare.

Once they were back on the road, he and Seungsoo would spend their nights bickering over which bed was whose or so exhausted and beat up they would be lucky they didn’t just collapse on the floor. It was even worse when Kyungsoo’s dirt bike finally gave out and he had to ride bitch on Seungsoo’s motorcycle. Stiff muscles and wind-chapped skin made for even more irritability. They even devolved into a fist fight once over who would get the bed furthest from the window.

And then a demon named Baekhyun shredded his brother from groin to chin and for the longest time in his entire life, Kyungsoo slept alone. For the most part. For a year, nameless, faceless people warmed his bed, their steady breathing lulling him to sleep, their presence a false comfort that people were the worst kinds of monsters out there. At least until morning, where the best thanks he could give them was to leave before they learned that real monsters existed too.

For two months, he had forgotten that feeling. For two months, he slept knowing that Jongin's wards were better than his, would hold against a demonic horde, would keep them safe until morning and beyond. And that Jongin's light snoring—one bed away—could counter the creaks in the night, the settling of buildings, the odd squeaks and rattles of appliances, to reassure him that there was no threat, no new monster. Or barring that, that there was backup.

Sleeping alone sucks. Or it would, if Kyungsoo could actually fall asleep. The room is wrong with just one bed. There is a tree branch outside of his window that keeps tapping the glass every opportunity it gets. He sees monsters in every shadow, ice pick teeth with bloody bits of his father still stuck in between.

—

The sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. Hand poised to knock, Kyungsoo takes shallow breaths as he stands outside of Jongin's room, straining to hear if Jongin was entertaining new company as well last night. The chain suddenly rattles and the door swings open. Jongin—fully dressed with his sleepy eyes and fluffy hair—stares at him, surprised. “Kyungsoo?” he rasps, taking a step back to grant them some distance.

Jongin's confusion holds until Kyungsoo realizes he hasn't answered. “Hey,” he says, eyes drifting down to Jongin's pretty pink sweater. A pink fucking sweater. This is worse than yoga pants for practicality. And just like those yoga pants, it makes him look so fuckable that it distracts Kyungsoo from his moodiness. “I…” he stalls, trying to recall the excuse he had practiced earlier. “I figured...we wake up early, locate the demon, and we can head out of town this afternoon to go to Seoul.”

Jongin looks like such a meek little mouse even as he towers over Kyungsoo, adjusting his glasses. Goddammit. “We're going to Seoul?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, confirming it with a nod. “I'll drive.”

“I can drive…” Jongin answers, closing his door and following behind Kyungsoo.

Together, they head out on foot toward the east side of town. His stomach voices its complaints, empty and churning acid. Jongin pops into a shop and comes back with breakfast, and they eat in silence as he sets up their tracker.

“You look tired,” Jongin offers half an hour later, as they bumble through another street. His phone is out, modified antennas extending out of its audio jack. The screen stayed blank.

“Didn't sleep well,” Kyungsoo lies. Didn't sleep at all. Déjà vu. Out of his periphery, he can see Jongin chewing on his bottom lip before it pops back into a silent pout. No further comment. “You?”

Jongin shrugs, focusing harder on the blank screen. He looks so sad. But Jongin was the one who started this. He got them different rooms. He got laid. But he’s so _sad_ , Kyungsoo just wants to apologize, and he doesn’t even know what for. He has no reason to apologize.

“Watch out,” Kyungsoo says, pinching Jongin’s sleeve between his fingers and pulling him back to the sidewalk. His hand opens and clasps around Jongin’s arm instead of dropping to his side, holding on until the pedestrian sign lights back up to let go.

“Thanks,” Jongin mumbles, eyes downcast as they walk past another row of houses.

“Jongin,” he says. They should just go back to the hotel and sleep in for a few more hours. Hunting while they’re both exhausted is a terrible idea. Jongin keeps walking. He tries again, “ _Jongin_.” No response. Kyungsoo jogs to catch up, grabbing his arm. “Hey!”

Jongin juggles his phone, luckily catching it by the antenna before the whole setup can crash to the ground for the umpteenth time. “What's up, Kyungsoo?” he asks.

“What's _wrong_ with you? I called you like a bunch of times,” Kyungsoo snaps, swirling the soft sweater over his knuckles. It stretches the pink fabric on Jongin's arm, distorting the cable pattern, and Kyungsoo loosens his hold, feeling precariously close to dropping his hand to take Jongin’s instead.

“I was...trying to watch the phone,” Jongin lies, blatantly lies, _clearly_ lies.

“It doesn’t need watching,” he reprimands, watching Jongin’s face fall even more as he squirms. Kyungsoo’s hand slips, catching on the last two fingers of Jongin’s hand, prompting him to finally look up and meet Kyungsoo’s gaze. “You could get hurt if you don’t pay attention,” he adds, ignoring the stupid giddy feeling bubbling up from the touch.

Whatever he was expecting Jongin to say doesn’t happen. He’s met with silence. Jongin’s fingers eventually twitch just the slightest to hook onto his, but his facial expression doesn’t change from that defeated, kicked puppy look. Kyungsoo slowly comes to realize he’s staring back, and now they’re just two sleepless assholes blocking the sidewalk in the middle of the morning, staring into each other’s eyes and—

Jongin jerks as static sounds through his phone’s tinny speaker, looking down and away. Their hands fall apart a breath later, spell broken. He thumbs at the screen and purses his lips before sneaking a nervous glance back at Kyungsoo. “Found him,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo joins in, ruffling through his hair and stepping forward to fall in step with Jongin. A minute goes by as they navigate the sidewalk, trying to divine the direction of the static. “I hate that thing,” he grumbles. “It's like Pokémon Go for demons, and it's vague as fuck.”

“I didn't know you play Pokémon Go,” Jongin mutters.

“I don't, but I've seen you play it enough to know how it works,” Kyungsoo answers.

“Well, it's what we've got,” Jongin explains, shrugging a shoulder. And that's true. Before Jongin discovered the hunters forum online, Kyungsoo would rely on…well, mostly luck and instinct to track down demons. There's something in the West called a Demon’s Trap, but that's way more intricate spellwork than he's capable of performing in a short amount of time and with a shorter amount of attention for something that only _traps_ demons. He'll leave that up to the hot, cotton-candy-pink-wrapped nerd leading the way.

His gut is burning still, coffee only exacerbating it. “We should go back,” Kyungsoo says, “and get some sleep and try tonight. We know it's around here. It won't take as long.”

“It'll be in the dark though,” Jongin says pragmatically. Personally, Kyungsoo doesn't think anyone wearing a fucking pink sweater to go hunt down and exorcise a demon could be considered pragmatic though, but here Jongin is, being fucking contradictory.

His muscles are sluggish. His brain is growing foggier. He's hunted in worse states of mind, but this is just really not ideal. “I just th—”

The static roars through Jongin's phone now, and he hurriedly lowers the volume and fiddles with the antennas as Kyungsoo's eyes dart around cautiously. The problem is that it's mid-morning, and the small town is alive. Too many people just waltzing around, not being particularly suspicious. They are cutting past an alley when suddenly Kyungsoo feels himself shoved violently sideways, feet lifting off the ground as he's propelled meters through the air, connecting to a brick wall in the alleyway, breath harshly expelled out of his lungs. He hears a similar “ _hurrck_ ” before plastic clatters to the ground. Jongin's pinned next to him, having dropped his phone and nursing an equally dazed head from the impact. They hover above the ground, held in place against the wall by the demon’s invisible force.

Someone is threatening them, voice higher, almost dainty. The ringing in his ear finally dies down enough so Kyungsoo can actually parse it out. “—knew you two were lurking around,” the girl says. She is short, undersized, even for a child. Her face read as maybe early-to-mid teens, but she is so petite that she could be mistaken for much younger. Jongin gasps next to him, possibly coming to the same conclusion. “Who wants to go first?”

Jongin starts reciting under his breath, in rushed, heavily accented Latin, staring into the girl’s eyes in disgust.

“What are you saying?” the demon asks, closing the distance. She drops him from the wall, but still keeps him pinned against it, grabbing his chin roughly to turn and face her. “Shut up,” she hisses.

Oh, thank god or whoever, this demon doesn’t recognize the Rituale Romanum. Or maybe Jongin’s pronunciation is too off for it to tell, but it’s the intent, the _attempt_ of the adjuration, not the precision, that matters. Jongin doesn’t even flinch as the nails digging into his jaw break the skin, bright red blossoming in small crescents.

“Vade, satana,” Jongin spits out before her hand drops to close over his throat. She must have caught on. Her fingers aren’t long enough to wrap properly around Jongin’s neck, but it’s enough to squeeze his trachea. He barely manages to gasp out “hostis humanæ salutis” when his air supply is choked off and his mouth flaps soundlessly.

“Hey! Stop!” Kyungsoo yells in panic, struggling futilely. Shitshitshit, this is why they should have gone back. Completely caught off guard by a run-of-the-mill demon. He can’t think clearly. He’s managed to get ahold of his knife, but this is a tiny little girl that the demon is wearing. He can’t injure her. Jongin was only halfway through the exorcism. “Hu—humil—” Kyungsoo starts, struggling to rush through the ritual to find his place. “Humiliare...sub potenti manu...”

Her small face turns to his, a glint in her eyes. She must have let off just enough for a thin trickle of air to whistle through Jongin’s throat as her attention shifts over to him. Jongin’s face is still beet red and darkening. Kyungsoo speeds through another verse and another, eyes locked on Jongin’s, watching it bulge out in horror, he almost misses the demon prying the knife out of his hand. She holds it to Kyungsoo’s chest and sinks it in slowly.

The prick stings as he hurries through “ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos,” praying that he’s saying this correctly. Jongin’s been handling the spells and incantations, and lack of practice combined with lack of sleep makes the ritual all muddled in his memory.

“Shut up, shut up, shut _up_!” the demon growls out of the child’s mouth, ripping the blade out and slashing the other direction, at Jongin, as she drops her hand from his throat. Red blooms across the pink sweater as Jongin finally is able to greedily suck in air. It stuns Kyungsoo into silence as he strains to break out of the demon’s invisible hold, watching her draw the knife back and ready it to sink in a second time.

“Te rogamus, audi nos,” Jongin rasps weakly. The knife, poised to sink into the center of his chest, gets redirected as her body tenses stick straight, head lurched back. The blade strikes the bricks beside them instead, harmlessly scraping across the mortar as black smoke pours forth from her mouth, gathering in a cloud above them before fleeing into the ground, back to Hell.

The girl and they collapse as one, Kyungsoo’s skull bouncing off of the dumpster and rattling his brain for a few more precious seconds before he recovers. Jongin is clutching his side, red dripping over his hand, as he hovers over the girl, rolling her onto her back. She blinks awake slowly, looks up at them in confusion, and starts to cry.

Goddammit, this was such a fucking mistake. “Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks, taking over so Jongin can lean back against the wall and catch his breath. “Girl,” he orders, regretfully having to opt for brevity in this situation. He tries again, “Are you okay?”

She is wailing now, hands clenched into fists as she sobs into her forearms. “It made me—” she hiccups, fat tears streaming down her face. “It made me…”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Kyungsoo repeats, shaking her shoulders gently. He gets the weakest head shake, and that will have to do for now as _Jongin_ is definitely hurt. “Stay here. We’ll call the police, okay? They’ll take care of you.”

 

Jongin grumbles about leaving the girl the whole way back, even as he bleeds all over Kyungsoo and stumbles when the sidewalk gets uneven. But they’re not doctors and they’re definitely not child therapists and someone with a fancy piece of paper can work on telling that girl how it wasn’t her fault. That’s just how this works. Otherwise, a whole lot more people would be killed if they only focused on healing the survivors. Hell, they'd have to be a lot less damaged first to be taking on the task of fixing other people.

They’re drawing too much attention. It’s the middle of the fucking day, and there are two dudes curled into each other to mask a knife wound, ambling down the sidewalk. Walking is fucking overrated. This would’ve gone a lot smoother with Jongin’s car. He doesn’t even realize it until Kyungsoo’s started repeating on loop about Jongin’s “stupid fucking pink sweater,” getting a dry chuckle from Jongin in response.

Jongin actually tries to head to his room as they enter the motel lobby. He _actually_ looks surprised when Kyungsoo twists him around to drag him back to Kyungsoo’s room, but thankfully, he complies anyway. He voices some kind of protest, some stupid, dismissive statement, as Kyungsoo peels the drenched, ruined sweater off of him to survey the damage. “I’ve got it,” he mutters, even as he looks down at his bloody chest.

Kyungsoo sighs, dragging his hand roughly over his own face as he looks Jongin over. At least it’s not as bad as he thought it was. The blade must have bounced off his ribs and grazed into his side. Enough for it to bleed a shitload, but no organs were punctured. Something Kyungsoo could definitely handle. “I'll be right back,” Kyungsoo announces. “You're gonna need stitches.”

He comes back with the suture kit to find Jongin in the bathroom, trying to wipe the blood off his torso with the scraps of his sweater and nearly loses it, shoving the stubborn idiot into the shower until he finally strips down and washes the mess down the drain. Jongin hisses and tries to shy away from the spray of water as it hits the cut, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes before grabbing the washcloth and soap and taking over for him, gingerly wiping around the wound. He can barely lift his arm by this point. Stubborn, _stubborn_ idiot.

The gash doesn't look as bad once it's been cleaned off. He cradles Jongin's face to examine the little cuts along his chin, the bruises on his neck. Not _bad_ , but still an ass kicking.

Jongin is watching him with those big, soft eyes. He feels a hand on his own chest and raises his brows. “You're bleeding,” Jongin says quietly, tugging at where the shirt clings to his skin.

He'd forgotten the demon poked him with the knife first. “It's nothing,” Kyungsoo replies.

“You should still wash it off,” Jongin argues.

Kyungsoo lowers his fingers to the bottom hem of his shirt. “I—”

“Here, I'll get out,” Jongin says, backing up and stepping carefully out of the shower, head down. He quickly whips a towel around his waist and disappears into the bedroom.

Kyungsoo hurriedly strips down and stands under the showerhead until the water runs from red to pink to finally clear. Most of the blood caked into his skin was not his. The knife had barely sunk in. It burns, but it doesn’t really need more than a bandage. He wraps a towel around himself hastily, water still dripping from his hair and rolling down his body.

Jongin’s looting around the suture kit when he gets into the bedroom. “Atch,” Kyungsoo admonishes, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he reclaims the kit. “Go sit down. I’ve got it.” He gets no cooperation from Jongin though, as the latter turns to face the bare mattress and freezes.

“...I’ll just stand,” Jongin says, face dropping again.

Kyungsoo has to look back and forth between Jongin and the bed a couple of times before he gets it. Flashbacks to their weekend, where they so thoroughly ruined the sheets of _both_ beds that they had to lay out towels over the mattress to fuck on before letting those fall to the ground so they would have somewhere dry to sleep on. He sighs. “There’s—I’m the only one who’s slept on that bed, okay?”

Jongin swallows and mopily takes a step closer.

“Er, well, no,” Kyungsoo says before grimacing at himself. “I mean, I didn’t sleep. But it’s just...me...yeah.”

“I can just do it myself,” Jongin says, staring down at his feet. He tries to turn, to leave, but Kyungsoo steps in his way.

“ _Dammit_ , I said go sit down,” Kyungsoo snaps.

Eventually, Jongin plants his butt on the very, very edge of the mattress, grunting as he tries to put his weight on his legs instead of on the bed, and earning a glare from Kyungsoo before scooting back a few millimeters. Stubborn asshole. Kyungsoo has to crouch down to survey the area. It’s bleeding, but not as profusely as before. The edges are pretty clean as well, no jaggedy lines. He applies the anesthetic and gets to work. For the next few minutes, the room is silent aside from their breathing as he stitches Jongin shut.

“Thank you,” Jongin whispers later, tensing his thighs to stand up, but Kyungsoo holds him back by his waist and he stays, looking confused.

“I’m not done,” Kyungsoo says, readjusting so he’s eye-level with Jongin, and cradles his jaw to look at the little red crescents. Not much to be done there beyond some ointment. He tilts Jongin’s head back to look at his throat, still red with the beginnings of bruisings. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ll be okay,” Jongin answers.

His breath hitches as Kyungsoo leans forward, brushing over Jongin’s lips with his own. It’s short, mere seconds, just enough for Kyungsoo to determine if Jongin is permitting it or not. He looks lost as Kyungsoo pulls back to look at his eyes. “Is this okay?” Kyungsoo asks. Eyes shining, Jongin doesn’t answer beyond dropping his gaze to Kyungsoo’s mouth. His sad, sad eyes. Kyungsoo kisses him again, caressing his cheek, careful not to graze over the cuts. “Talk to me, beautiful,” he murmurs into Jongin’s skin. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, but,” Jongin sighs out between kisses, “you don’t like kissing.”

“I do with you,” Kyungsoo answers truthfully. That’s good enough. He deepens the next kiss, suckling Jongin’s bottom lip before pulling away enough to press chaste kisses to his chin, down his jaw, and carefully over the bruises forming on his neck. This body...the last time he’s ran his hands all over this body, it was a much cleaner canvas. He licks over the anti-possession tattoo under Jongin’s collarbone, eliciting a soft gasp. His own dick is straining against the damp towel, and Kyungsoo glances down at Jongin’s lap before pulling away regretfully.

No indignance from Jongin. Just a confused look that switches too quickly into a guarded one. “You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Kyungsoo explains, thumb tracing over Jongin’s cheekbone affectionately. “I think you might pass out if we keep going.” He pointedly drops his gaze downward again before looking back at Jongin’s eyes and leaning forward to connect their lips again, just briefly. “I’ll go get us some food, okay? And then we need to sleep.”

“No-” Jongin protests, grabbing Kyungsoo by the waist when he scoots back. He looks like he’s second-guessing himself, and drops his hand.

“Sleep first then,” Kyungsoo says quickly, cutting in before Jongin can say whatever he was planning. “Move over.”

Reminded of the bare mattress, Jongin’s eyes dart down at it anxiously. He’s working up another objection. It’d only be the beginning of a pointless fight. Jongin started it with his bar hookup first. There’s no way Kyungsoo was going to lay down in that bed.

“Lie down,” Kyungsoo orders. They can talk about this later.

With much reluctance but no argument, Jongin carefully scoots back onto the bed and swivels to comply. Kyungsoo dashes to the bathroom to procure some dry towels, spreading it across the bed to make a barrier between their heads and the circumspect mattress. He drapes another towel over Jongin’s torso before climbing in next to him, creating a makeshift blanket for himself as well.

“Go to sleep, beautiful,” Kyungsoo whispers before locking their lips again. This time, Jongin carefully brings his hand up to run through Kyungsoo’s still-wet hair. His lips sizzle against Kyungsoo’s as their mouths part. He tastes sweet, his tongue exploring and tangling with Kyungsoo’s. It’s familiar, but it’s not. Kyungsoo pulls away with one final, innocent peck to the tip of his nose, looking up to see shining eyes again. “Go to sleep,” he repeats.

Jongin’s hand settles on his waist. His breathing evens out as they lay facing each other, staring off into space, into their own minds. He’s pretty sure he falls asleep before Jongin does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to my awesome beta, At1stSight, for helping me unfuck this mess. It was a drain and took forever to write, and she held my hand so fucking much. So please, give her some love. And there's actually going to be another update to this fic because, as you can see, something's about to go down, but the chapter was getting too long so I cut it into two chapters. Next one will be soon.
> 
> Come talk to me! [Twitter](https://twitter.com/filet_jignon) | [Curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/filet_jignon)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter might have some disappointing smut. Sorry. I had some stuff written before most of the stuff from chapter 12 actually, but then I re-read it, and hated it, and deleted, and for some reason, ended up re-writing it almost verbatim, except...1k shorter somehow. Anyway...it's supposed to be meaningful, and Soo's a really unreliable narrator.

Kyungsoo slowly awakens, disoriented and scratchy. He feels oddly well-rested, and attempts to stretch his arms out until they make contact with something. His eyes open to Jongin, flinching and curling in on himself. “Shit, sorry,” Kyungsoo hisses, rubbing Jongin's bicep in apology.

“I'm okay,” Jongin croaks, swiping at his eyes groggily.

The day returns to him in pieces. His head feels all weird because he slept with his hair still wet, and he's scratchy from the rough towels that have managed to tangle around him in his sleep. “How long were we out?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Feels like two or three hours,” Jongin guesses, cautiously stretching his spine out, his face contorts into a pained grimace as the stitches warn him not to test them.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Kyungsoo says, rolling closer to him and pushing his head to the side. Jongin's neck had turned into a deep red, mottled pattern. More bruises cover his arm and side where he was thrown against the wall.

Jongin traces a finger down Kyungsoo's shoulder, over his new, mottled purple splotches. “You too,” he rasps. He tries to clear his throat and winces, frowning afterward.

“Hurts?” Kyungsoo asks.

“A little bit,” Jongin answers. That’s improvement over blatant denial, he supposes.

Kyungsoo heaves a long sigh, looking over the exposed parts of Jongin’s body. He runs hot, often kicking his covers off in the middle of the night, and right now is no different, with only one of the towels bunched in front of his groin for modesty. Head to toe, his body is littered with scars and bruises. The tattoos aren’t there for aesthetics, and have no overall cohesiveness. His pretty yoga instructor… “Anything I can do to help?” Kyungsoo asks, hand sliding over Jongin’s, slipping their fingers together.

“That sounds like a line out of a porno…” Jongin mutters before tilting up at Kyungsoo, surprised at himself. “I didn’t mean...like…”

He wants to make it passionate, to jump on Jongin and mash their lips together, but they  _ both _ just got their asses kicked by a forty-five kilogram demon, so the kiss comes off way more tender than sexy. Jongin is surprisingly pliant after the first few seconds to adjust, hand pressed into Kyungsoo’s lower back, drawing him forward. “Is this okay, beautiful?” Kyungsoo asks anyway, delicately climbing over Jongin’s torso.

“‘m hardly beautiful anymore,” Jongin expresses his doubt, landing gingerly on his back and trailing hot fingertips down Kyungsoo’s spine, over the swell of his ass before cupping it, squeezing it.

Kyungsoo lifts his head, pulls away from the kiss to give him a reproachful look. He grazes Jongin’s cheek, and carefully along his jaw. “You need to stop getting hurt,” he says, voice low, “but of course, you’re still gorgeous.”

He gets no answer aside from Jongin deepening the next kiss, kneading into his thighs. Kyungsoo pushes Jongin’s legs apart slowly, rearranging his limbs in between them and scooting down, ghosting his lips down Jongin’s chest, to the faint trail of hair on his abdomen, and downward.

“ _ H-ah, _ ” Jongin gasps out, hissing air in afterward, causing Kyungsoo to stop his ministrations and look up.

“Don’t tense up,” Kyungsoo says uselessly. “Relax, baby.” He’s not thinking about his words. Or anything for that matter. The jealousy inside him, the worry, the lust, the  _ need _ . None of those things require attention right now as he laps at Jongin’s skin, feeling him grow harder under Kyungsoo’s attention. Jongin’s moans are music to his ears, the fingers in his hair encouraging him further. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Jongin whines out, thighs flexing beside him.

His injuries don’t slow him down in the slightest. Kyungsoo’s off the bed, looting through his bag, and back in less than a breath, tongue curling into Jongin’s mouth again, whispering nonsense at him. 

He has to keep a careful eye on Jongin, who keeps trying to spread his legs further or lift up, hurting himself in his impatience as Kyungsoo opens him up. It slows everything down, but eventually, they’re ready and Kyungsoo is wrapped and breaching and hearing Jongin whimper in anticipation.

“I’m good,” Jongin signals, once Kyungsoo’s fully sheathed inside him. But Kyungsoo knows how stubborn he is, and only rolls his hips in shallow thrusts, letting him adjust. Jongin keeps trying to insist, pulling him forward. So impatient. He doesn’t stop until Kyungsoo leans down to kiss him again.

“You look so good like this,” Kyungsoo sighs into Jongin’s mouth, ignoring how his shoulder is aching in protest. “You feel so good.” They have go to slow, gentle, because of their injuries, and normally that’d be frustrating, but hearing Jongin nearly sobbing in pleasure makes up for everything. He has to support Jongin’s leg to keep it hooked around his waist, to keep him from straining further.

The room is so silent. Kyungsoo’s used to the echoes of skin slapping, of loud, obscene squelches, profanities yelled out, but their coupling is nearly soundless aside from the soft moans coming from Jongin’s mouth against the whispered litany from his own. This is really a terrible time to unload his horniness. They’re too beat up to even fuck properly right now. He can’t even recall why he initiated this. It’s not like he didn’t get laid just a few hours ago. It’s not like Jongin—…

There’s a sudden sour, bitter taste in his mouth, and he ducks away from Jongin’s face, nuzzling into his chest instead. Kyungsoo lets out a sharp hiss as Jongin’s roaming hands accidentally graze a raw patch of skin, causing the latter to jump, to  _ clench _ tightly around him, pulling another gasp from his lips.

“ _ Sorry _ ,” Jongin says immediately.

He doesn’t need the worried look in Jongin’s eyes. Or the thoughts of someone else in his place, swirling around in his head. Or this odd ache in his chest, this tightness that is really distracting from him trying to reach orgasm. “Can I ride you, sweetheart?” Kyungsoo asks, stroking Jongin’s cheek.

At the first sign of a nod, he slips out of Jongin’s body, immediately missing the warmth, but desperate for distraction. There are a few moments of confusion as Kyungsoo tries to multitask disposing of his condom, rolling Jongin’s on, and prepping himself, but within minutes, he’s straddling Jongin’s lap and pressing the head of Jongin’s cock against his hole.

Jongin is so big and he rushed through stretching himself, but the ache is what he needs right now. A distracting ache, soon to be replaced by mind-numbing ecstasy. Jongin’s hand is on his wilting erection, tugging it back to full hardness and help draw away from the discomfort. He lifts up midway and drops back down, too soon, groaning as he does it again and again. The fullness...god, he’d missed this. The series of guys who came after Jongin, the few he bottomed for, none of them had felt like this.

He shouldn’t be jealous. He’d slept with probably a dozen other people since their weekend. But in his defense, he didn’t go dump Jongin in a different room so he could go get his ass rammed by some stranger.

Too many thoughts. Kyungsoo lifts up and tries to bounce his ass back down harder. It tingles everywhere, but Jongin lets out a whimper that was definitely not pleasurable. He opens his eyes to see Jongin gritting his teeth. “Fuck, baby, are you okay?” Kyungsoo rushes out.

“A little too hard,” Jongin mumbles. His voice is still rough, and Kyungsoo's heart twinges at the sound. His poor, sweet yoga instructor, all beat up and battered.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says, trying to put as much sincerity into the apology as he can. He gets a nod before Jongin's hands resettle on his hips, encouraging him to continue.

He's lost track of how long they've been going, quiet sighs falling out of his mouth as he bucks his hips softly, feeling Jongin's shaft rub over every nice spot inside him. One of his hands is interlaced with Jongin's, for support, to stabilize himself as he rides Jongin's cock, gasping as it slides nearly soundlessly in and out of him. 

“Lay down,” Jongin orders.  _ Yes _ . This is what he needs. To be pounded into until his mind is just white noise. Kyungsoo drops onto his side, wriggling up on the bed and helping Jongin roll over, keeping him inside of Kyungsoo the entire time.

He should roll onto his knees, so Jongin can fuck him even harder from behind. To disconnect from these overwhelming feelings bubbling up. 

But Jongin grimaces as he settles carefully on top of him, and that thought goes right out the window. He has to keep an eye on Jongin, or the latter will hurt himself trying to get Kyungsoo his release. He can even hear Jongin's breath going shallow as the stubborn idiot leans over to kiss him again. 

“Careful,” he warns. “Easy.”

“I—” God, Jongin's eyes are so shiny. The way he stares down at Kyungsoo leaves him speechless and dumbfounded. “I will,” Jongin finishes.

Kyungsoo expects him to pull out, to ram into him like that first night. To shunt him up the mattress to where he has to hold onto the headboard in order to stay in place. But instead, Jongin swivels his hips, grinding into him instead. It's almost torturously slow, and a low moan escapes Kyungsoo's lips. And then another, as Jongin repeats the motion. It's not blissful white noise, but if Jongin wants to grind, then play another slow jam, Kyungsoo can take it.

Except now he's clinging onto the undamaged parts of Jongin's shoulders, sniveling as Jongin stares into his eyes. The slow pace makes their gaze feel so much more intense, sensitizes every glide of Jongin's cock back into his body, leaves him a babbling mess as he's forced to watch Jongin's face for signs of discomfort, of pain. 

His own cock has been neglected between them, getting only the slightest friction from it rubbing along Jongin's abs. Jongin wraps his rough fingers around it now, stroking in pace with his thrusts, eyes never leaving Kyungsoo's. “I'm close,” he moans, sounding almost regretful.

Magic words. Kyungsoo hasn't even paid attention to where he is until those words left Jongin's mouth, and now he's too aware of the tightening in his groin, the buildup, the assault on his prostate. “Me too, baby,” Kyungsoo whispers, his hand slipping between them, over Jongin's, to guide his hand. Unthinkingly, too caught up in Jongin's eyes, he utters, “Kiss me.” And again, swallowing his pride and ignoring how desperate he sounds, repeating it over until Jongin's lips finally make contact. He  _ needs _ it, needs the taste of Jongin's mouth to get himself over the edge right now. He moans against the softness of Jongin's lips, teeth clacking as Kyungsoo tries to get more,  _ more _ of Jongin. 

His orgasm burns through him, breaking their lips apart as Kyungsoo whimpers through it, feeling his walls spasming wildly around Jongin, just seconds before Jongin's breath hitches and Kyungsoo can feel his cock twitching along as he chants Jongin's name.

Jongin lands ungracefully on his side, grunting but otherwise not looking like he's managed to damage anything. They lie nestled like spoons, until Jongin softens enough to slip from his body. Sweat cooling, hair matted, Kyungsoo calms his breathing and his thoughts by playing with Jongin's fingers.

A few minutes later, Jongin struggles to get up. Kyungsoo's help does more harm than good, causing him to teeter back onto the mattress an embarrassing amount of times. He watches Jongin's broad back as the latter stumbles over to the trash can and ties off the condom to dispose of it. Only Jongin doesn't turn back around, instead looking over at the ground where his tattered and bloody clothes lay. 

“Something wrong?” Kyungsoo pipes up.

Jongin looks at him finally, shoulders sagging as he takes a cautious step back to the bed. “My clothes are shredded,” he starts, looking over the messy mattress. “I'll just...wear a towel back.”

“Back to where?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin's already pulling a towel around his waist. “My room,” he says, eyes downcast again.

He grabs Jongin's arm, holding on until the kid turns to look back at him. “You can stay,” Kyungsoo offers quietly. The bed was colder already.

Jongin regards him carefully. His face sad again as he straightens up, Kyungsoo's hand dropping to the mattress. He licks his lips. “It's...easier for me...if I just go to my own room,” he says. His Adam's apple bobs and he flinches at the discomfort. “To not—...so we can work.”

Kyungsoo catches his hand this time, as Jongin moves to walk away. “Stay,” he whispers. Asks. Demands. Begs. He doesn't look up, feeling suddenly raw at the request, waiting for the hand to slip off his fingers and away again.

He hears Jongin sigh and swallow again. “Okay,” he whispers, defeated.

The sun is getting low on the horizon already, its rays casting a golden glow around the curtain. Had they been going at it for hours? “Another nap,” Kyungsoo begs, scooting over to make room for Jongin. “And then we'll grab food.”

Jongin nods, looking down at their interlaced fingers. “Okay,” he repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: emooOoOotions~ This chapter was unbeta'd, and I'm super sleepless, so I'm sorry if there are problems. I'll try to fix them later. Comment to let me know what you thought? And come talk to me on social media. I won't be posting updates for a few days, because I have to get my EXOGeddon check-in done, and then I'm gonna try to do some editing on Dark Shadows and PMSM first, so it'll be a little bit before I get Wizards in Training and TIIFP updated.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/filet_jignon) | [Curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/filet_jignon)


	14. Chapter 14

“What’s this one for?” Kyungsoo asks, tracing a tattoo around Jongin’s left elbow.

“Helps insulate you inside power rings,” Jongin says, pushing Kyungsoo’s head to the other side as he explains. “In case someone stronger overpowers it, you won’t die. Ideally.”

“So I don’t need one?”

Jongin parts another section of his hair upward and brushes the paste in. “Well, you might want to get one if you’re gonna be using power rings,” he says.

“Why would I do that when I have you to?” Kyungsoo says, hand creeping under Jongin’s t-shirt to tickle his waist.

Jongin squirms out of the way, elbows tucked into his sides as he glares, suppressing his giggles. “ _ Stop _ ,” he warns. “This stuff is toxic.”

“It’s just bleach,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes.

“‘Just bleach’ can kill you. Or blind you. Or make you really sick,” Jongin lists off, nudging Kyungsoo to tilt his head down so he can get the back. “Now behave or I’m gonna give you hot roots.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“It’s trashy, is what it is.”

Kyungsoo reaches for the box of dye, only to get his hand smacked. “You won’t even tell me what color it’s gonna be?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“No hints?”

Jongin parts the top of his hair to check his roots. “Half silver, half pink,” he says. “I’ll check again in five minutes.”

Kyungsoo gives him a look of disbelief as Jongin pops a clear cap onto his head. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, gesturing to his hair. “I’ve never used one of these any time I’ve dyed my hair.”

“It distributes heat more evenly,” Jongin says. “And you said I got to do this however I wanted. So I’m doing it the  _ right _ way.”

He said it so smugly, Kyungsoo has to fight back a sneer. He props his legs onto Jongin’s lap when the other man takes a seat opposite of him on the bed. “Give me a  _ hint _ …” he whines.

“I told you. Pink and silver.”

Kyungsoo gives him his hard stare.

Jongin remains unimpressed. He makes an unfolding motion with his hands. “One on each side. You can look like a scene kid.” 

“It doesn't burn. I don't think it's working,” Kyungsoo says, squishing the plastic.

“You buy 40 volume developer. It's too harsh and fries your hair and burns your scalp. This is 30 with some other stuff added in. It does the same thing and doesn't trash your hair.”

“You were a yoga instructor and you've never dyed your hair before,” Kyungsoo says. “How do you even know this?”

Jongin gives him a look, “You said I could dye your hair. So I did my research.”

“...You're such a fucking nerd,” Kyungsoo says, failing to repress the charmed grin that follows.

“It gets you hot and bothered,” Jongin answers with a knowing smirk.

The minutes drag by and Jongin's phone alarm still hasn't gone off. “Come let me suck your dick or something. I'm bored,” Kyungsoo says.

“...That's actually really tempting,” Jongin says. “But we should talk about this case. I still don't get it.”

“You're saying no to a free blowjob?” Kyungsoo asks, putting on a shocked face as he points at his mouth for emphasis. “From  _ these _ lips?”

“Those lips would look just as sexy wrapped around some explanation as to why the ghost I got rid of months ago is back and terrorizing people.”

Stubborn asshole. Jongin is the only person he’s ever met who will actually turn down sex in favor of knowledge if his curiosity is piqued enough. Kyungsoo lets out an exaggeratedly long and loud sigh and readjusts his legs over Jongin’s, swiveling his own chair side to side as he leans back. “That ghost is gone,” he says monotonously. “It’s really complicated. Like...magic is fucking weird, okay? I tried looking it up, and I think it’s supposed to be like a thoughtform. But also not?”

Jongin pulls out his phone and starts typing things in as he waits for more explanation.

“What you killed was the slit-mouthed woman,” he continues. “The problem is the slit-mouthed woman was never a real person. She is an urban legend that got spread around and everyone just started believing. And so any ghost that wandered around near that train station got...well, I don’t know if it was voluntary for them or not, but point is, they transform into her. She’ll never go away, because people will keep believing in her.”

Jongin scowls, “That’s ridiculous. How is it we can kill actual  _ gods _ . Things from actual mythology, but we can’t kill a regular, run-of-the-mill ghost that runs off of  _ belief _ ?”

“That’s why,” Kyungsoo says. “Because it’s belief. You can’t just kill an idea.”

It’s one of the worst things they have to deal with. The slit-mouthed woman, walking around the train stations in Seoul at night, wearing a red surgical mask. She asks people if they think she’s pretty and murders them if they answer no. Answer yes, and she takes the mask off, revealing the ear-to-ear gash where her mouth used to be and asks them again. ‘No,’ and she cuts them in half. ‘Yes,’ and she gives them their own Glasgow smile. Fun times.

Jongin sighs, tossing his phone onto the sheets after his searches brought forth nothing useful. “I’ll keep looking,” he grumbles. “It doesn’t make sense that she can’t be killed permanently.” He eases Kyungsoo’s legs off his lap and stands up, tugging the clear cap to check how much his hair has lifted.

“Am I pretty yet?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Not yet,” Jongin says, squeaking as Kyungsoo smacks him on the ass. “It’s ready though. Go rinse it off, and come back for toner. Don’t use shampoo.”

“What the fuck is toner?”

“Just—” Jongin actually pushes him toward the bathroom. “Go rinse. Don’t look.”

— 

Kyungsoo runs his fingers through his new champagne blond hair. It's so soft and fluffy and feels silky against his fingers. As if he'd never dyed it and actually remembered to condition semi-regularly. Impressive. And then he remembers why he was running his fingers through his hair and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “It’s pointless,” he says.

“We have to try though, don’t we?” Jongin argues, looking over the graffitied walls.

“It literally could be hiding in  _ any _ of this graffiti in  _ any _ of the train stations in Seoul,” Kyungsoo says. “The system is a network. She’s shown up in multiple stations with no indication that proximity is required. Not only might it take days or  _ weeks _ , but there’s no guarantee that we’d find a fucking squiggle, and more people could be out there dying over something else in the meantime.”

“But—”

“ _ Also _ , need I remind you that most likely there are Wanted posters of us where people might think we’re possibly  _ murderers _ , and this is fucking  _ Seoul _ .”

The ‘It’ they were trying to find is a Tibetan sigil that Jongin discovered might be what’s powering the slit-mouthed woman. Except it could be  _ anywhere _ , as Kyungsoo keeps saying. But it’s the only way to get rid of her once and for all, and Jongin’s got a thing about loose ends.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen as he catches sight of a familiar face in the crowd of people waiting for the next train to arrive. “...Sehun?” he hisses toward the figure, who turns and confirms it. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sehun does not seem surprised to see him. “I am under orders from Heaven to—”

“Oh, this is perfect!” Kyungsoo says, lightbulb going off in his head. “You can find a Tibetan symbol, right? Go be an angel, and get rid of a scary monster.”

“I cannot do that.”

Kyungsoo levels a glare at him. “...And why not?”

“I can find the sigil you’re looking for to fulfill our agreement,” the angel offers.

Oh, this bullshit again. “I’m not exchanging my soul for you to fucking play Where’s Waldo, you asshole,” Kyungsoo snaps. He hears Jongin calling his name and panics, flapping his hands at Sehun. “Quick, distract him!” Sehun looks startled, and turns to Jongin as he approaches them. “ _ Don’t talk about the exchange _ ,” Kyungsoo adds under his breath.

“Okay,” Sehun says, staring blankly at Jongin.

“Sehun?” Jongin asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What—”

“Did you know that ‘distraction’ is spelled D-I-S—” Sehun starts.

“No, something else, idiot!” Kyungsoo blurts out, only to feel a slight breeze to his side. He turns, finding Jongin nowhere around them. “...What the fuck just happened?”

“You said ‘something else’. You asked me to distract him so we could complete the accord.”

Kyungsoo waits, even holding out his hands in a ‘go on…’ motion, but apparently Sehun’s catching no hints today. “...Where the fuck...is he?”

Sehun blinks, “I sent him to Australia.”

God is clearly testing him. “I told you to distract him so he wouldn’t magic you away, and your options were to  _ spell ‘distraction’ _ or to  _ send him to a different continent _ ?” Kyungsoo growls. “The point was to keep him busy so I could talk about the sigil, asshat.”

“I put him in the middle of an ostrich farm. I assure you he’s likely quite busy.”

For fuck’s sakes. “Bring him back!”

The corner of Sehun’s mouth twitches in annoyance and he sighs, looking over to Kyungsoo’s left where a rather frazzled-looking Jongin now stands, a large black feather sticking out the side of his shirt. “You okay, babe?” Kyungsoo asks, sneakily plucking it away and letting it fall behind him. Jongin glares daggers at the angel, mouthing something quietly as he holds his hands out, parallel to each other in front of him. Kyungsoo jumps between them and grabs his hands, pushing them down. “Hey,” he says, trying to soothe the anger out of Jongin’s face. “I was just talking to Sehun about how he could find the sigil. You know, so we can get out of here?”

“Was it in exchange for your soul?” Jongin spits out.

“We’re still negotiating,” Kyungsoo says quickly. “I was gonna offer him some fried chicken instead.”

“My vessel does not require sustenance,” Sehun states.

“People have  _ died _ ,” Jongin says before Kyungsoo elbows him to remind him that they’re still in a public space. He drops his voice. “What kind of angel are you? Are you not supposed to help save lives?”

“I’m not that kind of angel,” Sehun answers, a bored look on his face before he turns back to Kyungsoo. “Back to—”

“If you won’t help with the sigil, I’m sending you away,” Jongin threatens.

“Hey...” Kyungsoo starts.

Sehun’s lip curls up into the slightest sneer as he glances back. “My offer is not to  _ you _ —”

And then he’s gone. “Why did you do that?” Kyungsoo asks. “He could’ve helped us. Do you realize how impossible of a task this is? Not to mention how much of a waste of time?”

Jongin is sulking, refusing to look at him as he dusts off his shirt. Another feather falls to the ground. “He dropped me in the middle of a bunch of attack ostriches,” he grumbles. “But I send him away to protect your soul and you get mad at me?”

Jealous, pouty Jongin is his ultimate weakness. It’s so  _ cute _ . “I was-” Kyungsoo purses his lips in frustration. “I was trying to trick him into helping us, you dummy.”

Jongin’s got that stubborn look in his eyes again. “He’s not going to give up. It’s not safe to try and deal with him,” he says.

“So we should skip town and go check out a possible haunting in Siheung, I think,” Kyungsoo says, mentally crossing his fingers. Motels in Seoul are expensive as fuck and the big city just makes him really paranoid.

_ Nooo _ . Sad puppy eyes. Jongin sighs softly, looking down at the floor. “If that’s what you think is best,” he says.

Goddammit. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and gives Jongin a weak shove. “C’mon then, we might be able to knock out this station and two more before nightfall.”

—

He can feel Jongin’s smirk against his lips and pulls back to give the man a questioning look. Jongin is all innocent eyes as he tugs Kyungsoo’s shirt up and off. “What is it,” Kyungsoo finally asks.

“Nothing,” Jongin says, smug grin blooming immediately after.

“Very convincing,” Kyungsoo says, shoving him flat onto the mattress and leaning over him again. “What is it?”

“I haven’t kissed you in almost a week,” Jongin says, splaying out as Kyungsoo strips the rest of their clothes off.

“Sounds like fake news, but okay,” Kyungsoo answers, climbing back onto his lap and pushing Jongin’s hair out of his face. Mm, pretty. He licks over Jongin’s swollen lips again, pulling back as Jongin chuckles. “ _ What. _ ”

Jongin lifts his head and whispers conspiratorially into Kyungsoo’s ear, “You just kissed me again.”

“Did not,” Kyungsoo sing-songs, reaching behind himself to roll the condom onto Jongin. He holds his breath as he lifts up and pushes it slowly inside him, sighing happily once Jongin’s filled him up entirely.

“Did too.”

He pulls Jongin’s hands to rest on his hips. “So maybe I did,” Kyungsoo says, biting his lip and he clenches around the heavy length inside him. “I like foreplay.”

“You said you hate foreplay.”

“I think you’re a lying liar who lies a lot,” Kyungsoo taunts, lifting up only for Jongin’s grip to tighten and yank him back down sharply. His mouth slackens as the pleasure pulses straight up his spine and spreads in small aftershocks up his scalp.

“I think you could just admit you like me,” Jongin says, snapping his hips up the next time he pulls Kyungsoo back down.

Kyungsoo groans loudly as they find their pace. He yanks Jongin back to sitting. It shifts their position so he’s not hitting as deep, but Jongin’s got so much dick to give, and this is just… _ better _ . The smirk is back and he sucks it off of Jongin’s bottom lip, letting himself get carried away with the sensation overload. “Of course I like you,” he murmurs.

“I meant like we have something special,” Jongin argues between kisses, dragging them backward until he can flatten himself against the headboard for better leverage.

He can feel Jongin swelling inside him, close to the edge. His own orgasm is still a ways off, but Kyungsoo grips the headboard and speeds up his movements. His thighs are burning as he repeatedly lifts himself up and slam back down against Jongin’s hips. “Of course you’re special,” he says.

“Ahh,  _ Kyungsoo _ —” Jongin says, head tossed back as he tries to hold it and prolong the moment. It only makes Kyungsoo more determined, milking him with rhythmic clenches until Jongin’s gasping and moaning Kyungsoo’s name as he cums.

“Mmm, fill me up, baby,” Kyungsoo purrs as he rocks his hips in lazy motions, Jongin’s cock twitching wildly inside him. It’s satisfying in its own way, and he knows what’s coming after. A bead of sweat drips down Jongin’s hairline and gets caught on the edge of his brow, and Kyungsoo leans forward to lick it off.

“Yuck,” Jongin teases weakly, still catching his breath.

“It’s just salt,” Kyungsoo says, wiping the rest away and resting his forehead against Jongin’s. He clenches again, feeling smug as Jongin bucks his hips involuntarily.

He’s flipped onto his back once Jongin’s recovered enough, his legs spread wide so Jongin can watch as he sinks his fingers back into Kyungsoo’s hole. They immediately prod around and find spots that make his lips go numb with each stroke. He grabs Jongin’s chin in his hand, fingertip pressing into the full bottom lip to hint. Instead of leaning down, Jongin sucks the finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it suggestively.

Kyungsoo makes a disgruntled noise. “Don’t tease me,” he whines, tugging Jongin’s face down toward his crotch.

“No movies,” Jongin quotes, “no dating, no kissing, no nothing…”

His nails rake down Jongin’s chest, leaving red trails on the skin. “Suck my cock, baby,” Kyungsoo says breathily.

“You made me promise, but you keep breaking your own promises,” Jongin says, leaning down to suckle on his neck instead as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of Kyungsoo’s body.

Kyungsoo takes matters into his own hand, literally. It draws Jongin back down until he pushes Kyungsoo’s dick past his lips and swallows the whole length down, fingers fucking harder into him now, causing his whole body to jerk upward with each thrust. It snowballs the building heat in his groin, and he holds his breath, feeling it intensify to breaking point until he’s gasping and cumming down Jongin’s throat.

Tasting himself on Jongin’s tongue jerks Kyungsoo back to the very poorly timed argument earlier, and he rolls over sulkily, away from their cuddling position.

“Really?” Jongin asks.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “You’re arguing with the letter of the law here,” he says pissily. “Not the spirit.”

“I know exactly what I’m arguing with,” Jongin counters. “And it’s the spirit.”

“It’s self-preservation, you cute fucking asshole,” Kyungsoo growls.

Jongin nuzzles up against him again, and the heat extinguishes substantially. Goddammit. “I just think you’re in denial, and we shouldn’t have stupid rules since you don’t plan on obeying them,” he says.

He grabs Jongin’s hand and splays his own fingers against it. “You promised,” Kyungsoo reminds him.

“It’s not like you gave me options,” Jongin says with a frown. “We’re not dating, we’re just together. No sleeping with other people. That’s fine, but to lump in that if anything happened to you, I’m supposed to just bail? Could you do that?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says instantly, jutting his chin out in challenge.

“You’d leave me,” Jongin clarifies.

He swallows before nodding. “Yep. Because that’s the deal.”

It wasn’t a very solid performance, he’ll admit. The look in Jongin’s eyes confirms he’s not entirely sold on it either. “And you think if anything happened to you, I could do that?” Jongin asks.

“You’ll have to,” he says. “Because you promised.”

“It’s just sex then,” Jongin pushes. “I’m just fucking you because you’re hot and you’re here and willing.”

“And if anything happens to me,” Kyungsoo says, emphasizing the more important part of their arrangement. “You seriously reconsider opening up a yoga studio somewhere and moving on with your life. No trying to sacrifice or doing anything stupid.  _ That’s _ the deal.” Shallow commitment. That’s all he can offer. Enough to keep Jongin around, enough that they can get some stress relief out and not do irrational shit out of jealousy. That’s it.

“You’re asking me to go against basic human nature. You  _ do _ realize how fucked up that sounds.”

“Hunting is a fucked up life,” Kyungsoo says. “We don’t get happiness. That’s the whole point.” He rolls off the bed to clean up and pull on a change of clothes. “Happiness is for people who haven’t been exposed to this. Normalcy was taken away from us, and now we’re just trying to prevent it happening to as many other people as possible before we go.”

“ _ I’m _ happy,” Jongin states, passing him a towel.

He pauses. Two words shouldn’t make him feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It’s scary. “Me too,” Kyungsoo says quietly after some hesitation. “That’s why we have to keep to the arrangement.”

—

“Why don’t you just dye your hair too?” Kyungsoo asks, threading his fingers through Jongin’s hair as he steers the car into the exit lane.

“I don’t know,” Jongin answers, stripping the meat off of a chicken thigh and feeding Kyungsoo first before he takes his own bite. “I would look weird with dyed hair, I think.”

“You’d look hot,  _ I _ think,” Kyungsoo says. “Plus, we can just use the same fancy pants shampoo you insist on buying.”

“It’s purple shampoo,” Jongin says saltily. “You need it to keep your hair from getting all brassy. My hair is black. It just needs to be cleaned and conditioned.”

“It’d be less stuff to pack,” Kyungsoo argues, tickling the back of Jongin’s neck and smirking as he tries to squirm away. “C’mon, let me dye it.”

“You’re reckless with hair dye. I don’t know if I could trust you not to destroy my hair,” Jongin says, ducking out of the way to avoid a swat.

“We could match,” Kyungsoo suggests. Couple hair, he thinks, and then cringes internally. That’s passé. Just matching hair is enough. It’s cute. He manages to snatch Jongin’s glasses away as the boy visualizes the look, and tucks them hostage in between his thighs.

“Hey!”

“Say yes,” Kyungsoo says, squeezing his thighs together to keep Jongin from being able to get his glasses back. “ _ Stoooop _ , or we’re gonna crash and die.”

Jongin shoves him halfheartedly. He intentionally smears the next bite all over Kyungsoo’s mouth before Kyungsoo manages to inhale the greasy piece of meat, clamping down briefly on Jongin’s fingertips just before he can pull away. “Ow!” he yelps.

The flirtatious banter continues even after Jongin finally agrees to the hair experiment. It’s definitely sunset when they find a parking lot close to the train station, but they’re on such a good pace for the day, having cleared out three stations already. He places the glasses back onto Jongin’s nose bridge, but it ends up crooked, and they sneak a quick kiss before they walk up to the station.

It’s empty. Jongin stays close, sensing the same uncomfortable static in the air too. This place has “Danger” written all over it. No, really, it’s actually spray painted in no less than three spots along one wall alone. They should leave. Come back later early in the morning when there are too many people to invite predatory spirits.

“It’s here,” Jongin whispers, fingers spread out in front of him and tracing patterns in the air.

“The woman?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes darting around.

“The sigil,” Jongin answers. “I can feel it.”

Kyungsoo grabs the back of his shirt so he can follow Jongin while keeping his eyes on their surroundings. “You couldn’t feel it before, baby? Because that would’ve been really fucking helpful about ten stations ago.”

Jongin clicks his tongue. “I didn’t  _ know _ I could. It’s strong. It’s definitely here.”

“Well, can you pinpoint it so we can get the fuck out of here?” Kyungsoo asks, an anxious bite in his tone. This is a bad, bad idea, but they’re too far into the station to just bounce now. Here’s to hoping that two people is one too many for opportunistic ghosts to pop up.

“Here,” Jongin says as he reaches a wall. He adjusts his glasses, scanning the graffiti for the Tibetan symbol. “...Somewhere around here.”

“Torch the whole wall,” Kyungsoo says, shaking the backpack off of his shoulder to hand to Jongin.

“Hello,” says a soft voice.

“Hurry,” Kyungsoo says, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up as the woman takes a step closer to him, head tilted at an angle. Her skin is as pale as paper, contrasting sharply with the red surgical mask covering the lower half of her face. She wore a simple white dress, stained with brick red.

“Are you lost?” the woman asks, her head canting in the opposite direction. Her eyes are all black pupils. It reminds him too much of his mom. Or the monster that took over his mom.

“Babe, hurry,” Kyungsoo says, tugging Jongin’s shirt in one hand and carefully unsheathing his knife in the other, keeping it concealed behind his arm. Behind him, he can hear Jongin’s breathing go shallow as he tries to find the sigil.

“It’d be helpful if you didn’t believe in her,” Jongin says, sounding distracted.

“ _ Sweetheart _ , it’d be easier to not believe in her if she wasn’t staring at me right now,” Kyungsoo says, dropping the shirt in favor of grabbing a fistful of salt from his pocket. At its core, this is still a ghost. It is being powered by the sigil to assume this form, but it’s still a ghost. Steel and salt should still work against it. ... _ Should _ .

“Do you think I’m pretty?” the ghost asks finally, edging a step closer. Her eyes widen, the black as glossy as marbles.

“You know, I’m actually gay as fuck,” Kyungsoo says, grip tightening around the knife as he tries to maintain a casual tone. “So I’m probably the wrong person to ask.”

The sound of liquid hitting plaster behind him draws both his and the ghost’s attention. Either Jongin found the sigil and was dousing it with gasoline or he decided now was a good time to take a piss.

The ghost shakes her head slightly, turning her eyes back to Kyungsoo. “Am I pretty?” she repeats, undeterred.

“Stop talking to it,” Jongin says, followed by the sound of a match striking sandpaper.

“What about now?” she asks, peeling the left side of her mask off and grinning. The gash opens, revealing withered flesh from ear to ear. “Am I pretty now?”

“Why did we eat fried chicken before this, god _ dammit _ , Jongin,” Kyungsoo rushes out.

The  _ whoosh _ sound of gasoline vapors igniting is music to his ears, but the fire reflects in the ghost’s pupils until it slowly dies out, and the woman still stands before him. What...the fuck…

The ghost glares at him, hatred boiling to the surface. “Are you afra—”

She gets a face full of salt and staggers back. At least that was consistent. Kyungsoo only has a split second to notice the salt seemed to have melt into her skin, like acid, before he swings the knife through her body. She vanishes with an echoing shriek.

Right. Still a ghost. Gotta find the haunted object. “Fuck,” Kyungsoo spits out.

“You okay?” Jongin asks.

He’s shaky, adrenaline still pumping through his system. “We gotta find her body,” Kyungsoo says, still tense and ready for more fight.

“Yeah, but she can’t come back as the slit-mouthed woman anymore. It’ll be easy next time,” Jongin tries to reassure him, hands running over his arms. Surprisingly, it helps.

“You’re sure it’s destroyed?” Kyungsoo asks, chancing a quick glance over to the burnt patch on the wall.

“I felt it,” Jongin confirms.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head to try and clear it. “Let’s go back then. We’ll clear her out tomorrow, and then we’re getting the fuck out of Seoul.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At1stSight beta'd this for me where she could, but excuse the mistakes, I posted before she could see the whole thing. Sorry, I know the chapter was a little scary. Trust me, I can't deal with scary things either. :\ Anyway, ummmmm, this story is ending very soon. As in there is either 1-2 chapters left. It will be updated again in a day or so, however long it takes me to chug out the next chapter. I will be updating only this story until it's completed, so there's that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some...violence this chapter. It's true to Supernatural form if you've seen the show. If you haven't...just...bear with me. It gets better.

“You need to shave,” Kyungsoo says once Jongin lands back on the bed, brushing his thumb across the coarse, spiky hairs on Jongin’s chin.

“I thought you liked stubble,” Jongin answers, rolling onto his stomach to stretch out. His spine pops in a satisfying series of hollow snaps and he flops over, splaying out on Kyungsoo.

“Ahhh,” Kyungsoo grunts, arm worming around Jongin’s chest to pinch nipples. It works, and he’s freed a moment later to curl up on Jongin’s shoulder. “I  _ do _ ...but my ass can go without it.”

“I highly doubt your ass could go without,” Jongin counters, giggling at his innuendo before he can fully get the sentence out.

“Oh,  _ har-har _ ,” Kyungsoo says mockingly, his indignance dropping as he moves his legs, feeling Jongin’s rapidly cooling saliva dribble down to his thighs from their earlier activities. Jongin snuggles close as a peace offering, eyes tilted up to look into his as a finger prods around between Kyungsoo’s cheeks. He feels it push in a moment later and arches an eyebrow in question.

“I like how loose you get afterward,” Jongin says as explanation, pressing another finger in and casually exploring.

“If I cum again, I’m gonna be useless for the night. You’re gonna have to go by yourself,” he says. It doesn’t feel like anything yet, but he knows just how capable Jongin’s fingers can be.

Jongin pulls out and crawls over him. He returns to his original position a moment later, and cool lube is smeared across Kyungsoo’s entrance as the fingers push back in.

“Baby...” Kyungsoo warns as he complies with Jongin’s little nudges and rolls onto his stomach.

“I like when you call me ‘baby’,” Jongin says, groping at a cheek.

He has to think about it for a moment. It’s not like it was a conscious decision… “I always call you baby,” Kyungsoo says, spreading his legs apart as Jongin’s fingers slip out and he hotdogs his hardening dick back in the crack of Kyungsoo’s ass.

“For a while, it was only during sex,” Jongin says, rolling his hips forward. His shaft slides easily with the lube, rubbing against Kyungsoo’s rim.

“This isn’t sex?” he asks, bracing his hands against the wall as Jongin starts thrusting, squeezing his cheeks together to increase the friction.

“It’s like all the time now,” Jongin continues a little breathlessly.

“What’s your point?” Kyungsoo asks, lifting his hips up eagerly. “Put it in.”

“I just like it.”

“Put it back in.”

“You said you don't want to cum again,” Jongin says, a clear smile in his voice.

Kyungsoo huffs in annoyance. The stimulation on his rim is just enough to tease, and the wet sounds Jongin's dick is making against his skin is distracting as hell. “ _ Baby _ , put your  _ cock _ back in my  _ ass _ ,” he commands breathily.

Jongin hums behind him, too amused at the conversation. "We need to get more condoms after we get rid of this ghost," he says, pulling away after. Leaving Kyungsoo now an odd mix of aroused and annoyed. This bastard.

"Are we  _ out _ ?" Kyungsoo asks as he rolls around, finding a towel to clean himself up with.

"Probably pretty close to out."

"Pretty close isn't zero."

"You said you didn't want to cum again," Jongin singsongs, tilting his head and giving Kyungsoo a satisfied grin, " _ Baby _ ."

He watches as Jongin pulls on a pair of sweats, boner still present and raging, and puts his glasses back on. Back to nerd mode. Apparently, sexy time was over.

A few minutes later, Jongin pipes up, finally looking away from his computer. "Maybe-," he starts, eyes scanning the article. "Yeah, a woman died about a month ago. She was attacked elsewhere, but she tried to flee on the train, and passed away from injuries there. Different station though. Family cremated her." He pulls up another tab to load a map. "Crypt is located here."

"Makes sense," Kyungsoo says, leaning over Jongin's back to skim over the obituary. "They probably left flowers and some other stuff around the station where she died."

"If it was something the spirit could attach to, you'd think someone would've pilfered it already."

"Mm, maybe."

— 

"What should we even be looking for?" Jongin asks, looking around the empty station. They were where the woman had passed away. It's been a month though, and the station just...looks like any other station they've been to.

"You haven't done any cases with cremated ghosts?"

Jongin shakes his head no and walks around in a wide circle, hands jittery at his sides. "I only had a couple of ghost cases in small towns, and they were buried. I don't feel anything."

"Buried would've been easier, but this is Seoul. There's no room for that," Kyungsoo says. "I've seen a doll once. Umm...and a hanbok. It varies, really."

"Where are we headed after this?" Jongin asks, peering around the corner and scrunching his nose at the piss stench wafting toward him.

"To get a fuckload of condoms."

Jongin snorts, but it's not enough to cover up his giggles. "I meant, like, afterward."

"We should probably head to Junmyeon's to refill on everything," Kyungsoo suggests. He hears Jongin make some sound of acknowledgement behind him. As Kyungsoo nears the stairs, something catches his eye, and he steps closer to investigate. There's a dusty old notebook on the ground, near a pile of wet trash. It's plain-looking with some writing on the cover. "What was her name?"

"Park Seonju," Jongin says after a moment to recall.

Yep. That's her name on the front of the notebook. "Bingo," Kyungsoo announces, squatting down to get a closer look at it.

"Yeah?" Jongin asks, hurrying toward him as Kyungsoo pulls out his travel bottle of lighter fluid to soak the paper. "Awesome."

Kyungsoo's reaching for his lighter when Jongin grunts loudly, the air knocked out of his lungs. He barely manages to turn around when he's sent rolling into the wall, hearing Jongin land somewhere further away. The ghost is back. In her true form this time, without the scary mask. She was young. He groans as he rolls off the garbage bags, grimacing in disgust and hoping he's still dry. The ghost floats toward him, violence in her eyes. "It's time to move on, Seonju," Kyungsoo says, transferring the lighter to his left hand so he can pull his knife out.

Jongin calls out her name to attract her attention, and the girl whirls to glare at him instead. Kyungsoo is much closer, after all. He can hear Jongin chanting as he hurries toward the book, trying to flick the lighter on with his left hand. The ghost lets out a piercing shriek, and Jongin gasps, his chants growing more strained.

He peeks over as the flame still refuses to ignite. Jongin has his arms up in front of him, holding a translucent shield to keep the girl from attacking. She had managed to rake vicious marks into one of his forearms before it went up though, and is attacking the barrier with gusto as Jongin fends her off. There is blood dripping down his arm and off his elbow, each drop weakening the shield and angering her further, like a shark in the water. Above her, rusty pipes creak as her spirit starts to stretch out and seek objects it can use to protect itself.

Two things happen simultaneously: a flame finally catches and holds just as her attention turns to Kyungsoo. He hears Jongin's shout as the shield drops, coinciding with the  _ whoosh _ as the vapors ignite on the book once he drops the lighter onto it. The metal pipe breaks free, and Kyungsoo watches with mildly detached interest as it zooms straight toward his heart.

And then Jongin's wide, panicked eyes fill his vision, followed by a heavy weight and a sharp stab into his chest. He hears a ragged exhale, and...and then it's too quiet. Jongin's head lolls to the side as they land, his body going oddly limp. The sound of metal scraping tile is too loud, too jarring. Kyungsoo finally looks down to see the tear in his shirt, the sting from the wound finally reaching his nerves as blood soaks into his white tee. It's not deep.

Jongin is sitting upright, but at an angle. He's held in place by the pipe through his chest. It...this should not be there. He should not have a pipe through his chest.

"Baby?" Kyungsoo whispers, his voice way too loud for such a quiet place. His  _ breathing _ is too loud now that he's suddenly too aware that he's the only one doing it.

Jongin's eyes are still open, but the panicked look has slipped from his features. No pulse. No breathing. His skin is losing its color fast.

The feeling of helplessness is suffocating. With shaky hands, Kyungsoo pulls Jongin up straight and, after a moment to steel his nerves, yanks the pipe free, letting it clatter loudly on the ground as it rolls away, streaking dark red across the grungy tile. No reaction. No cry of pain.

"Baby," he tries again shakily, unable to ignore how  _ cold _ Jongin's body feels now. It must have only been a minute or two.

It takes a moment to register that he's hyperventilating. Too many thoughts are racing through his mind. It's overwhelming. A small voice in his head is saying to get out of there, to take Jongin's car and leave before cops can arrive. They barely feel like words. His face is starting to tingle. Jongin's lips are blue now.

Kyungsoo surges to his feet. He can't- He can't just leave Jongin here. He can't abandon him. Not again. This thought fuels him enough to half drag, half carry Jongin back to their car. To load him into the backseat. He loses it for a moment when he has to dig through Jongin's back pocket for the keys, but forces himself to get it together.

The car's suspension creaks in protest as it bounces after Kyungsoo sends it barreling over a small hill on the highway. He's going double the speed limit, barely able to see with the stinging in his eyes. He has no idea where he's even going, too busy tuning out the small voice still in the back of his head, trying to remind him of cremation procedures for deceased hunters to ensure they can move on.

Jongin's eyes laugh at him from his memory as they shower together after a case was finished. Afterward, he had convinced Kyungsoo to try some beginner yoga and they wound up fucking before they ever even got around to adho mukha shvanasana. He had to restitch one of Jongin's wounds later that night. It's a weird memory to revisit right now, but after a few seconds, he knows its significance. It was the first night Jongin didn't bother to try and shyly slip out of bed, to still keep him at a distance only to be coaxed back like always so they could spoon. So that Kyungsoo would not have to sleep alone.

"What is this?" says an amused voice in the passenger seat. Kyungsoo forgets he's driving and turns, expecting to see Jongin even when the pitch is completely different. Baekhyun turns away from the body in the backseat to smile mischievously at him. "Lover's quarrel?"

He stares until rapid honks bring his attention back to the road, and Kyungsoo swerves back to his lane and finally lets off the gas pedal, allowing it to drop back to safer speeds. "What are you doing here?" he hears himself ask monotonously.

"I heard some gossip about fun times in the train station," Baekhyun says, blowing a hot pink bubble until it pops loudly and he chews the gum back up.

Kyungsoo slams on the brakes so suddenly, that they both lurch forward. He hears a dull thud against the back of his seat and winces. Still, he veers a sharp right down an off ramp and pulls to a stop in an empty parking lot.

Baekhyun's eyes bug out as Kyungsoo holds a deathgrip on his arm. "Bring him back," Kyungsoo growls.

"Which one?" the demon asks, his face back to its usual amused expression.

This is  _ not _ \- He needs to- "What do you want for him?" Kyungsoo asks, feeling his blood turn to ice. "Bring him back. Now."

Baekhyun plucks his hand away easily, dusting his arm off afterward. "Like I  _ said _ ," he says, "which  _ one _ ? Your brother? Or lover boy in the back seat there?"

"Both," Kyungsoo says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door as he circles over toward the passenger side. Baekhyun exits, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leans against the door. "You want my soul, right?"

"Ooh, this is interesting," the demon says, rubbing his hands together with a wicked smile. "But unfortunately, no, your soul isn't worth  _ that _ much. I can do a one-for-one trade. Which one will it be?"

"This is bullshit," Kyungsoo growls, spinning on his heels to look at the horizon. "I don't have time for this." His mind is racing, each thought not having nearly enough time to process before it's overridden by another. "Sehun!" he bellows into the night sky. "Sehun!" He repeats it, over and over until his voice grows hoarse.

The angel appears in front of him, glaring at Baekhyun in disgust. "Do you need me to finally exorcise this abomination?" Sehun asks. And then stumbles to the side, taken off guard as Kyungsoo slaps him hard across the face, until he has to shield himself with his arms as the hits keep coming.

"I ask you—for  _ months _ —" Kyungsoo roars, arms swinging, too blinded by rage to consider the situation, "—I  _ begged _ ! Only for you to accept nothing! Only for you to stand there with your holier than thou, ridiculous apathy, and the first thing to come out of your mouth now, is to offer to kill my brother?"

"Enough!" the angel says, and a blast of air sends Kyungsoo backward, until he lands hard on his rear, hands scraping across rough pavement. "He is already dead."

Still not enough to deter him. Kyungsoo bounces to his feet. " _ I _ –was-already-dead!" he continues to shout, beating on his chest to emphasize each word. "You brought me back. You refused to bring him back. It's not that you were unable to; you  _ refused  _ and let the demon stay." His vision gets too blurry, and he stops to wipe the wetness away from his eyes and breathe. There's a strange calm settling in. "I want them both back. I don't care which one of you does it."

"That is not acceptable, Kyungsoo," the angel says.

"My soul's up for grabs," Kyungsoo announces, throwing his hands up into the air. "These are my terms. Bring them both back."

"I cannot do that," Sehun says.

" _ I _ can," Baekhyun chirps, stepping away from the car.

Sehun advances toward the demon, right hand raising. He grunts as Kyungsoo tackles into his side, and turns around to glare at the offender. "You cannot negotiate with this demon, he—"

"Show me," Kyungsoo says, stepping between them. "Bring Jongin back. Have him stand here, whole and healthy. Heal my brother and leave his body."

"Done," Baekhyun says, holding his hand out to shake.

"Kyungsoo!" the angel warns.

He almost shakes. "Show me first."

Baekhyun's gaze wavers minutely. He smiles, stretching his hand closer toward Kyungsoo. "Do we have a deal?" he asks. "I'm waiting."

"He cannot offer you Kim Jongin's soul," Sehun says. "It is not within his abilities."

"And it's within yours?" Kyungsoo asks.

The angel gives him a disapproving glare. "I can bring him back in exchange for your soul. Yes."

"And my brother's."

Baekhyun snickers. "Not his jurisdiction."

"I can destroy this demon," Sehun says hurriedly. "I can allow your brother's soul to rest."

"Lies, lies, lies. He can't," the demon continues, clicking his tongue in admonishment. "Ask him why."

"I don't care," Kyungsoo says. "Those are my terms. Jongin and Seungsoo."

"The fate of the  _ world _ depends on you offering your vessel over to Luhan," Sehun presses.

"Then you better find a way to save my brother too," Kyungsoo sneers back.

There's an awkward pause where both angel and demon have to consider their cards and their next move carefully. From here, Kyungsoo can make out Jongin's body in the back seat.

"I can," Sehun says after another minute.

"He can't!" argues Baekhyun.

"Show me," Kyungsoo demands.

"Do I have your consent?" the angel asks. No handshake. No deal with the devil. Just surrender.

"Bring Jongin and Seungsoo back. Whole. Healthy," Kyungsoo lists off, feeling his body shake. "And promise they will be left alone and safe."

"He  _ can't! _ " Baekhyun repeats. "Seungsoo is  _ ours _ ! He belongs to the Horde!"

Sehun makes a backhand motion toward the demon, sending him through the air to crash heavily into the side of a dumpster, leaving a large dent. "I have received authority from Heaven to proceed with this offer," he states. "Your brother's release and Jongin restored."

He has no idea what they mean by release aside from Baekhyun's possession. Clearly, there are other powers at play here, but that’s two steps further than he can focus on right now. "I want proof," Kyungsoo demands again, over Baekhyun's protests in the background.

Sehun sighs and gives him yet another look of disapproval before closing his eyes. Something thumps from within the car, and within a minute, the door swings open and shuts, and footsteps jog toward him.

"Kyungsoo," says a warm voice behind him.

"And my brother," he says, eyes locked on the angel's.

"What's going on?" Jongin asks, a nervous hand on Kyungsoo's arm. "All I remember is the ghost—"

Kyungsoo cuts him off. "Don't forget what you promised me."

"What?" Jongin asks, as Sehun turns back toward the demon, who is now backing away from them.

"I need your consent," Sehun intones.

"You have my consent  _ after  _ the demon has been exorcised and my brother healed fully. With the promise that they're both left alone," Kyungsoo says before finally turning to look Jongin over. His hand presses into Jongin's chest, finding it warm and unharmed through the bloody hole in his shirt. A good chunk of one of his tattoos there is missing, leaving the skin oddly bare.

"You did the deal?" Jongin asks, gripping onto both of his arms now to turn Kyungsoo to face him. "How could you do that? That's not  _ our _ deal!" There are tears welling in his eyes. His skin has returned to its golden color, as if nothing had ever happened. He's beautiful...

Baekhyun lets out a pained shriek behind them as the sky somehow grows even darker. Black clouds swirl around them. "I don't know what's going to happen," Kyungsoo says quickly, hearing how calm his voice is. "Take my brother back to Junmyeon's after this. Jagi's key is in my bag."

"Kyungsoo!" Jongin shouts, shaking him. He looks pained. It will be okay.

It's agony to hear his brother's screams, even if they're not actually his. Kyungsoo can feel his chest clench in response to Baekhyun being ripped from his brother's body. "Remember what you promised me," he repeats, finally reaching up to cup Jongin's face. "You need to leave this life, okay?"

"It is done," Sehun says, sounding drained.

The next blink sends hot tears down his cheeks, and Kyungsoo pulls away from Jongin just enough to turn his head. A few meters away from him stands Baekhyun, looking over his hands with fascination before tilting up to face them.

"This is real?" Baekhyun asks. No.  _ Seungsoo _ . His  _ brother _ asks.

"Our deal is done," Sehun reminds him. Jongin's hands drop from his sides to try and fight the angel away, but Kyungsoo turns. There's no running away from this.

"Okay," Kyungsoo says, hearing multiple shouts in the background, but before he can turn around to get one last glimpse, Sehun presses two fingers against his forehead, and everything goes white.

And silent.

Time passes in a strange, hazy cloud. It doesn't hold much meaning with nothing to provide context or reference. He doesn't feel like he's floating. He doesn't feel anything. Exhaustion. Excitement. Fear.  _ Anything. _ It's difficult to focus on any thought, and he drifts for...seconds or days or years, forgetting memories. He simply exists. In a void. Perhaps this is Hell. Or maybe this is what Heaven really is. The absence of everything. Did the angel ever specify? The angel... The vessel... Those words meant something once.

There is a crumbling feeling suddenly, like things are falling around him, like he's being constricted into a small space. It's hard to breathe, and then he remembers he must not have breathed in so long. The surroundings, the whiteness, fades. Or rather, it grows. In it are shapes, colors. It's terrifying and thrilling, and it's shocking to experience terror and thrill after the nothingness.

He feels something firm flat against his back. It takes a few more seconds to be aware of gravity, and that it is his back that is against something firm. His eyes gradually focus, honing in on eyes watching him nervously. Familiar eyes. Eyes like his own.

"Whoa, slow down," his brother says, helping support him as Kyungsoo sits up too quickly. The room goes sideways and his stomach lurches uncomfortably. "You're safe. We're safe."

"What-" Kyungsoo says, his voice coming out clearly even though he hasn't used it in...decades, it feels like. "-happened?"

He recognizes this room. This is the bunker underneath Junmyeon's cabin. He is sitting on a series of concentric chalk circles, interconnected with complicated runes and glyphs. On the edge of it is another figure, on his knees, hands pressed flat into the perimeter line. Sweat drips from his brow.

"Jongin," Kyungsoo says, afraid to move and disrupt the ring.

Jongin's hands lift cleanly off the chalk and tremble in his lap as he sucks in air, throwing his head back and gasping for breath. His eyes open and land on Kyungsoo with a small smile seconds before he collapses in a heap.

The lines flash bright blue, one after another, before disintegrating. There's nothing left to worry about tripping over, and Kyungsoo breaks out of his brother's hold to rush over to Jongin. "What happened?" he yells, rolling the man over.

He's breathing. Heartbeat is racing, but steady. He's alive. He's okay.

"Jongin," Kyungsoo repeats, shaking him weakly.

"He said that might happen," Seungsoo offers, standing up and wiping his hands against his pants. Blood came away on the denim. "But he should be okay. Think you can help me haul him upstairs?"

"What  _ happened _ ?" Kyungsoo repeats for the umpteenth time.

"He locked them out," Seungsoo says in awe, walking around them to grab onto Jongin's legs with a relieved sigh. "It worked."

"Locked who out?"

"The angels. The archangels. Ripped Luhan right out of you. They're all gone now."

“What do you-  _ Who's  _ gone?”

Seungsoo gives him a proud smile. “Everyone. The gates to Heaven and Hell. He shut them both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this story was supposed to end this chapter, with...pretty much everything that happened. However, shortly after I posted the previous chapter, At1stSight convinced me to not end this fic yet. So I've decided to make this into a series, kind of like the seasons of the actual show. This'll give this plotline some closure, but still open the way for the rest of the stories I didn't get to tell here. Also, if you've made it to here, yeah, in Supernatural...pretty much everyone dies. The main characters die like, constantly. That won't be happening here though. I don't know how many "seasons" this fic will have, but let's just take it one small step at a time. Let me know what you thought of it in the comments. I'm also on Twitter as @filet_jignon if you wanna come talk to me on there. I also have a Curiouscat linked in my Twitter if you are shy. <3
> 
> EDIT: OH MY GOD I WROTE THIS CHAPTER AND POSTED IT SO LATE, I COMPLETELY SPACED ON SHOWING EVERYONE THE BEAUTIFUL FANART FOR IT THAT STARSONCHEEKS ([TUMBLR](https://starsoncheeks.tumblr.com/post/162092864060/there-aint-no-rest-for-the-wicked-until-we-close)) MADE. LOOK AT IT, LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT IT IS!
> 
>  


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